You'll Be the Death of Me
by niteryde
Summary: Vegeta is determined to reach his full potential and help destroy the androids when they arrive. If only that woman would just stop distracting him, and stop looking at him like that...
1. Bots

**A/N: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, I'm just a fan. :P  
**

**This is my first DBZ story, and my first attempt at writing one of my favorite couples. The ever infamous 3 year gap before the arrival of the androids. Hope you guys like. :)**

* * *

He was born to be the greatest warrior the universe had ever seen, and he was going to stop at nothing until he finally achieved the power that was his birthright.

Vegeta's body was screaming for rest, but the floating bots were ready to attack again. He grit his teeth, breathing heavily as he struggled just to remain standing in the unbearable force of 350 times Earth's gravity. He'd been working nonstop for two straight days without so much as a water break, fueled by a fierce and stubborn determination not to quit. In the back of his mind, seared forever into his memory, was a constant motivator: the image of a third class Saiyan and a kid from the future both making the legendary Super Saiyan transformation before his very eyes. It was an insult to his pride and honor as the Prince of all Saiyans that he was being outclassed. Just thinking about that sight, about others reaching a level that was destined for him and for him alone, it made Vegeta want to scream with rage. It was that very rage that was keeping him standing.

He blinked sweat out of his eyes, squinting at the bots that were in front of him. Bracing himself, Vegeta put his senses on full alert in anticipation for the next attack when his sensitive hearing picked up loud laughter right outside the gravity chamber. Without wanting to, he immediately placed the person laughing as that annoying, loud-mouthed blue-haired wench. He took a quick glance towards the laughter with an annoyed sneer, his attention diverted for only one second.

He instantly paid the price. Looking over at the side, Vegeta didn't have time to get up a defense before an energy beam slammed into his ribs and knocked him back against the wall of the gravity room. Falling on his back, he hissed in pain as he clutched his ribs and squeezed his eyes shut, the embarrassment stinging more than the physical pain. It was completely unacceptable for a Saiyan Elite like him to get _distracted. _If the bots would've been the androids, he'd be dead. Slowly, Vegeta rolled over and by willpower alone, he painfully got back up to his feet.

Taking a deep breath to soothe his burning lungs, he clenched his teeth together hard and brought his hands back together. Light instantly pulsed from his hands as he summoned up the little energy he had left, before unloading a blast that destroyed all of the bots in sight, sending them all crashing to the floor. Vegeta smirked a little in satisfaction, before slowly and painfully trudging over to the control panel in the room. The relief was instantaneous and would have likely sent him to the floor if he didn't have the control panel to lean on. He couldn't keep his smirk from spreading though. Not too much longer and he was going to be used to 350 times Earth's gravity.

Vegeta glanced over at the fried bots and remembered the distracting laughter he had heard earlier. His smirk disappeared, replaced by a deep scowl at the memory. These goddamned humans were so annoying, but he unfortunately had to deal with them. His strength slowly coming back, he pushed away from the control panel, going to find one of them.

He had a specific human in mind…

* * *

Bulma placed her left hand on her hip, while she squeezed her brand new cell phone in her right hand. Her only regret was that she wasn't squeezing Yamcha's neck instead.

"Are you calling me a LIAR?"

"Did I say that?"

Bulma exhaled through her nose in frustration, beginning to pace in her bedroom while trying not to trip over the mess on the floor. "Look here buddy, I have _things _I have to do! I have work to do tonight, and I just can't go see this movie with you!"

Over at his apartment, Yamcha rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Yeah, you're always busy, aren't you? Even I'm not as busy as you are and I've been training hardcore for these androids."

Bulma threw her head back and laughed loudly. "Oh _puh-leeze! _You have the most relaxed training program I've ever seen! Every single day you're calling me wanting to do something, but you forget that some of us have actual _jobs _to do around here."

"Hey, I _am_ training hard!" Yamcha snapped, purposely not mentioning the fact that he currently had a baseball game muted on the TV. It was just bad timing; he deserved a break. He leaned back in his sofa and had a bitter look on his face when he added: "Just because I'm not killing myself every day like that jerk you're housing doesn't mean that I'm not going to be ready when those androids come."

"The only jerk I'm dealing with right now is the one ON THE OTHER END OF THIS PHONE!" Bulma shrieked, making Yamcha wince on the other end. "I told you that I'm busy and then you have the nerve to call me a liar!"

"Well, you wanted us to give our relationship a try again, but you hardly seem like you want to try! It's called making an EFFORT, Bulma!"

Vegeta's scowl deepened as he walked down the second floor hallway of the Briefs home. He heard the woman as soon as he walked inside from his training. That damn woman was so _loud_ sometimes. She was such a nuisance, always with a response on her tongue whenever they ran into each other and actually exchanged some words outside of his training equipment. He'd never had anyone speak to him as freely as she did, and could still remember being stunned into complete silence the first time she'd fearlessly strolled right up to him and told him to his face that he needed a bath. If it wasn't for her familiarity with Kakarot and for her scientific knowledge and technical expertise, not to mention the sheer speed at which she could crank out her work, Vegeta had no doubt he would've ripped her head off by now.

He paused in the doorway to her bedroom, his dark eyes briefly scanning the room before finally settling on her. Bulma had her back to him while she ranted away on her cell phone, and his eyes slowly roamed her body while she continued her conversation with that weakling human that was always coming by the compound. That fool annoyed him even more than she did. At least the woman was actually useful with her gadgets and inventions. Her weakling mate wasn't even worth the effort and energy it would take to kill him.

"Excuse me?" Bulma yelled angrily, unaware that the Prince of all Saiyans was standing in her doorway. "You know what, FINE! I'll show you lack of effort you jackass!" She then hung up and threw her phone angrily on her bed, where it bounced and then went flying to the floor. She glared at it the whole way as if it embodied everything that was wrong about her off-again, on-again relationship with her boyfriend. "He is such a child… argh!"

"Woman."

Startled, Bulma spun around towards the voice, her breath momentarily catching in her throat at the sight of Vegeta standing before her. He had a white towel hanging from around his neck, the sweat still glistening off his chiseled chest from his training session. His hands were clenched into fists, as if he was bracing himself for a fight. His face was twisted into a menacing scowl as his dark eyes bore into her blue ones.

"Vegeta," she breathed out in surprise, one hand going over her heart while she wondered how long he'd been standing there. Vegeta's scowl deepened when he heard the soft way she said his name. Bulma took another breath, studying him curiously. "Is everything okay?"

"No, everything is most certainly _not_ okay!" he snapped at her, and she frowned. Bulma straightened her back, placed her hands on her hips, and glared fiercely at him.

"_Now _what's your problem, huh?" Bulma demanded.

"My _problem_," Vegeta sneered, his tone scathing, "is that you were busy laughing it up right outside of the gravity chamber like the arrival of these androids is some kind of fucking party! How am I supposed to train when you and the rest of these idiot humans are distracting me? Do you _want _these androids to kill everyone, is that it?" he snarled, his voice rising with his rising fury.

"Now look here, you ass. In case you've forgotten, this is _my _house, Vegeta, and I'll do what I want, when I want. You have NO right barging in here and bossing me around!" she yelled at him.

Before he could think, Vegeta yelled back, "One of the bots you and your father created nearly killed me because of YOU distracting me!"

He regretted the words as soon as he said them. Bulma's features instantly softened, her blue eyes widening in concern as she gave him a quick once over, looking to see any bruises or injuries. She hadn't meant to get the man actually hurt, and she approached him to get a better look.

"What? What happened? Are you alright, do you need help?"

Vegeta started backing up instinctively, feeling extremely awkward as she came closer to him. What the hell was the woman doing? And why was she looking at him like that?

"I'm fine, woman!" he barked out. "I am a Saiyan warrior and the fiercest fighter in the entire universe! Your ridiculous robotic toys can't harm _me_!"

Bulma stopped walking, and he felt an overwhelming sense of relief. The look of concern on her face melted away to one of amusement. She looked at him and smiled knowingly, and he suddenly felt very uneasy. He clenched his fists again and glared at her, trying hard to figure her out.

"Weeeell…" Bulma started, her smile widening as he gave a low, annoyed growl. She put her hands back on her hips and leaned forward a little, her smile turning into a playful smirk, "If you weren't in any danger, then what exactly is the problem with us using the area around the gravity chamber, tough guy?"

He bristled, fuming now and feeling his energy level rising, "BECAUSE IT'S DISTRACTING! I am working to help destroy these androids and save your miserable pathetic little planet, and all I want is peace and _QUIET_!"

"Okay, okay," Bulma relented, backing up a little when she noticed that various items in the room were starting to levitate in response to the Saiyan's fury. "I'll sound proof it so you won't hear a thing, okay?" She gave him a small, warm smile. "We don't want your training to go to waste after all, right?"

Vegeta grunted, the offer taking the edge off his fury even though the menacing scowl was still on his face. Bulma gratefully noticed that nothing was levitating in her room anymore. The prince crossed his arms over his broad chest and stared at her with his intense gaze.

"Do it tonight then, so it will be ready for me in the morning," he ordered, his eyes hard. "Also, I destroyed those pathetic bots. I will need replacements immediately. Stronger and faster ones that are suitable for a warrior with my abilities."

Her own temper flared up instantly, "We just replaced those bots for you three days ago!"

"Well replace them again, woman! Maybe if you had a brain, you could build something that could actually last!"

"_Who do you think you are?" _Bulma screamed at him. "You jerk, don't you know that I have a life too and I can't just spend every damned night repairing what _you _destroy? Small wonder you're not stronger than Goku, you can't do a damn thing with everything we've given you except destroy it!"

Vegeta's dark eyes flashed at the sound of his rival's name, before narrowing dangerously. He lowered his fists to his sides, clenching them tightly over the audacity this weak, human woman had.

"I mean…" Bulma stammered, trying to cover her tracks. She had struck a nerve and had wounded his pride, she could see it in his irate eyes. "You're not stronger than him _yet, _but you will be."

"If you _ever _question my abilities again, I guarantee you that it will be the last thing you ever do," Vegeta warned her, his voice ice cold.

"Vegeta…" She'd crossed the line, and she knew it. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Just fix the damn things, and stay out of my way," he growled, not liking the way she was looking at him again.

Vegeta turned and marched off towards his bedroom without another word. He was pissed off, frustrated, and sore as hell from training for two days straight. He wasn't one for giving into rest, but he needed it so he could at least recover enough to continue training.

_That woman_…

He sneered at the thought of Bulma. She spoke to him like no one else had ever spoken to him. How dare she speak to him with such blatant disrespect? If anyone on his home planet had ever spoken to him like she had, he would have killed them on the spot. Hell, forget his home planet - if anyone outside of Frieza and his top lieutenants had ever spoken to him like Bulma did, they would have met a cruel and painful death.

But then there were times when the woman genuinely looked concerned about him, or when he caught her looking at him curiously like she was trying to figure him out. Vegeta hated those times the most because he didn't know what to make of them. He was used to people shrinking back in terror from him, not looking at him like that.

He just couldn't get a read on her at all.

* * *

"Vegeta destroyed the bots again," Bulma sighed as she sat with her parents at the dinner table. Upstairs, they could just barely hear the water running as Vegeta showered.

"That boy trains like a madman," Dr. Briefs remarked, his eyes on his food as he slowly cut into his dinner. He shook his head with a frown. "I really think he's overdoing it."

"Oh, nonsense," Bunny said, waving off the comment with a giggle. "That sweet boy is just dedicated. He wants to grow strong and he's so passionate. What's wrong with that?"

"Well, he's a jerk," Bulma mumbled. "He never even says _please _or _thank you_, just demands that things be done and barks out orders all the time. He just barged in on me tonight wanting me to drop everything and fix the bots for him. I am not his slave."

The heiress frowned, continuing to mindlessly pick at her mashed potatoes. She hadn't liked the look in Vegeta's eyes when she'd brought up the fact that Goku was stronger than him. She knew the man had pride but had perhaps underestimated how much he had. She'd struck a nerve, poured salt on a wound that wasn't healed.

And now she didn't like the guilt that lingered inside of her over it.

"Maybe that handsome boy is just hungry," Bunny said, looking over at her daughter with her eternal bright smile. "Why, he must be starving from how hard he works! Dear, why don't you take him some food?"

Bulma was about to object, before sighing and reluctantly relenting, "Yeah, I can't remember the last time his _royal highness _asked me to cook for him. I guess I should just be proactive and beat the jerk to the punch."

"Oh, Bulma, how is Yamcha doing?" her father asked, peering over at his daughter. "I haven't seen him around in a couple of days either. Has he been sparring with Vegeta in the gravity chamber?"

Bulma guffawed; _that _would be the day. "Dad, please. Vegeta could beat up Yamcha with one finger and with his eyes closed. Yamcha and I just haven't been able to meet up… he's been annoying me about that…" she sighed loudly as she remembered their earlier conversation. "Ugh, men are just impossible," she growled.

Her parents just chuckled. Bulma looked up at the ceiling, her mind going back to Vegeta. Food was smart; he was a Saiyan, so he was bound to be hungry. And who knew? It might help him unwind. The Saiyan prince was always agitated for no good reason that Bulma could figure out, always looking like he was ready to murder the next person he saw. His whole disposition was the worst she'd ever encountered in her life: he was crass, rude, impatient, and completely inconsiderate. Her brows furrowed as she finished her dinner, all the while trying to figure out just what Vegeta's deal was.

There had to be more to him than the hard shell he wore all the time…

* * *

Vegeta was pulling on some clean shorts when a knock came at his door. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he immediately placed the person as that annoying wench of a woman. This was the first time she was actually seeking him out in his room, and it put him instantly on edge. Briefly, he wondered if she was already done making him new bots, but she wasn't _that _fast.

He opened the door, and his scowl was replaced by a look of surprise when he saw what she was carrying. Bulma also looked surprised to see that he was simply wearing some snug-fitting workout shorts. He was freshly showered and she was momentarily awestruck by how handsome he was… _especially _when the scowl briefly disappeared from his face.

"Hey you," Bulma said, giving him a friendly smile. He frowned at her when he saw it, unease settling into his stomach as he tried figuring her out.

_What is wrong with her, is she bipolar or something? _

"I thought you must be hungry after training so hard the last couple days. I brought you some food. You have to eat when you work out so hard."

Vegeta looked back down at the plates of food she was carefully balancing in her arms. He grunted and stepped aside so she could enter his room. She walked over to his bed and placed some plates there and the rest on the desk in his room while he leaned against the wall by the door. Vegeta watched her carefully, his face completely impassive and his eyes hard as always as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes scrutinized every detail of her appearance, especially when she bent over to put his food down…

He immediately looked away when Bulma turned back to him, feeling angry and ashamed of himself. He was the Prince of all Saiyans, and he was here ogling some ordinary human girl.

As if _she _could ever have _anything _to offer him.

"Okay, well, here's some food for you," Bulma told him with another friendly smile.

Vegeta looked back at her, caught her smile, and sneered, "It's about time you learned some damn respect, woman."

Bulma's smile disappeared, replaced by a fiery glare. "_You're welcome_, your majesty," she said snidely.

Vegeta couldn't help but crack a smirk, seeing that he was getting under her skin. This pleased him greatly, to be able to rile her up just like she did to him. "That's more like it."

"Ugh, you are _impossible_!" Bulma yelled at him in frustration. "I'm _trying _to be nice here, Vegeta! Would a _thank you _kill you?"

"Perhaps," he remarked, his smirk growing a little. He motioned with his head towards the door next to him. "You can leave now, woman. You have work to do on the gravity room so that I can continue my training tomorrow."

"Well, you know _what, _your highness?" Bulma shot back as she put her hands on her waist. Vegeta grit his teeth at the mocking tone in her voice. "I won't be doing _any _work on your precious gravity room unless you ask me _nicely_. What do you think about that, buddy?"

He snorted. "I _think _I'll just ask your father then. Perhaps you forget, but you aren't the only one here with a brain, woman."

_"My name is Bulma!" _

The two stared at each other intensely. Moments turned into seconds, and seconds began to trickle into minutes. Vegeta's intense glare met its match with Bulma's resilient stare, and neither side looked like it was going to back down any time soon.

Finally, Bulma's cell phone began to ring in her bedroom. Vegeta smirked when he heard it, and Bulma was infuriated by that annoying and completely maddening smirk. Oh, if she could smack that smirk right off the jerk's face (without risking her life and the planet's safety in the process), she wouldn't hesitate for a second.

"That must be your pathetic mate calling to beg you to see him," Vegeta said with a snort of disgust. "A _real _man wouldn't need to beg to see his woman."

"Like you would know, a girl would have to be clinically insane to ever give _you _a second look," Bulma shot back.

"Better run along now," Vegeta said, his smirk growing. "We wouldn't want the weakling to start crying, now would we?"

Bulma glared at him before heading to his door, her head held high. Just as she was passing him though, she stopped and reminded herself of what she'd said earlier. Taking a deep breath to calm her temper, Bulma looked over at Vegeta and studied him critically. He kept his eyes straight ahead, away from her even though he could still see her through his outstanding peripheral vision. His smirk slowly disappeared when he realized she hadn't left yet. He scowled as he felt her eyes lingering on him. Why the hell hadn't she left him yet, so he could be in peace?

Bulma's eyebrows furrowed a little as she saw how uncomfortable he was, and her expression softened. He was such an enigma, such a mystery man, a fierce warrior...

Not able to help herself, she felt compelled to say something more to him.

"Hey, really… I'm sorry about what I said about Goku. I really think that with the way you train, you have a great chance of surpassing him. I mean, you _are _the Prince of all Saiyans after all."

Half out of his doorway, her cell phone still ringing in the background, Bulma stayed as she waited to see if she'd get a response. Vegeta's jaw was clenched tightly, a muscle flexing there rhythmically, the tension clear in his body. He was within arm's reach, and inexplicably, she almost felt tempted to touch his arm just to put him at ease.

"Leave," Vegeta finally said gruffly, turning his head away from her. "Now."

Bulma sighed and did like he asked, running off to her room to try to catch whoever was calling her. Vegeta heard her running, and his muscles finally relaxed now that she was gone.

_That damn woman, _he thought, mentally cursing her as he released a deep breath. _She has some nerve..._

He stubbornly stood there against the wall for a long time, not wanting to eat the food she'd brought him. But the smell was too strong, and he decided he might as well not let it go to waste.


	2. Infiltrations

He knew something was wrong as soon as he turned on the light in the gravity room.

Vegeta glanced around suspiciously, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. The walls had been reinforced by Bulma to keep the room completely sound proofed so he could concentrate on his training. It had been a week since he had last seen her, and for that he was grateful. She had done her work, and that was all he required of her. Besides those reinforcements, he saw nothing.

A scowl came across his face as his eyes told him that everything was the same as it always was, even though his instincts were telling him otherwise. He slowly walked over to the control panel, reaching out to start the gravity simulation. He rested his fingers lightly on the keys, but did not press them.

His body tensed as he took a deep breath. Someone had been there. He could smell them. But who?

He identified the person the smell belonged to a fraction of a second later, and he let out an angry growl. Immediately, he turned on his heel and marched right back out of the gravity room, his hands clenched into tight fists.

* * *

Bulma was sitting down in front of her home, bored out of her skull as she watched Yamcha practice his punching combinations. She'd been sitting out here with him for a half hour now, and tried to keep herself entertained by watching her boyfriend work up a sweat. But even Yamcha's attractiveness couldn't erase her annoyance that she was sitting out here being ignored when she had work that was waiting for her. The heiress sighed loudly, wishing she had at the very least brought along a magazine. At least that would've been more entertaining.

"How much longer are you planning on sparring with the air?" Bulma finally asked, boredom filling every syllable.

"Bulma," Yamcha sighed, looking at her out of the corner of his eye in exasperation. He loved his girlfriend to death, truly he did, but sometimes she made things very difficult. "I have to take my training seriously. I told you that I would call you when I'm done, and we can hang out then. I didn't ask you to sit here and watch me."

"Look, you were bitching this whole week because you said I wasn't making time for you, well, I made time for you today!" Bulma growled at him. "And for what? For you to blow me off saying you have to train?"

"I'm sorry," Yamcha apologized, lowering his arms and finally turning to look at her. "It's just, I found out yesterday that I'm way behind where I could be…"

He frowned as he remembered sneaking into Vegeta's gravity room the night before. He'd wanted to prove to the Saiyan (and to himself) that he could also handle the rigorous training environment that Vegeta thrived in. It hadn't escaped his attention that through her complaining about the Saiyan prince were a sprinkle of occasions when Bulma spoke of Vegeta's phenomenal work ethic with admiration in her voice. Eager to show his girlfriend that he wasn't exactly weak himself, he'd activated the gravity simulation to 300 times Earth's gravity - only to almost be squashed to death. Not having even lasted a minute, he'd crawled out of the gravity room, his pride hurting the most. He felt pathetic, and only then truly realized how weak he was in comparison to the Saiyan Prince.

Yamcha briefly considered telling Bulma about what happened, but then decided not to. He just gave her an apologetic look and a half-hearted shrug, before getting back to work.

"Fine, whatever then," Bulma said dismissively, seeing that she was just wasting her time here with him. She gave him a glare before getting up to her feet. "I'm just going to go help my dad then."

"I'll call you later?" Yamcha said enthusiastically, smiling nervously.

Bulma had an acidic answer ready on her tongue when the air suddenly gushed around them. Yamcha turned around just in time to see Vegeta land on his feet behind him, his blue aura firing and flaming up around him. He was wearing his usual training shorts and an old pair of gym shoes that Bulma's father had lent him to train with. Yamcha yelped and backed up in surprise, backing up right into Bulma. The two landed sitting down next to each other on the ground, both wide eyed as they looked up at the Saiyan prince.

"Vegeta, what do you think you're doing!" Yamcha yelled, scrambling up to his feet. Bulma stayed sitting, surprised at the cold hatred on Vegeta's face as the air continued to rush and spark around him.

"So," Vegeta said, his tone conversational as his dark gaze settled on Yamcha, "You came into my gravity room, eh? Were you looking for me? Because if so, here I am."

Yamcha visibly paled. He'd made sure to leave the gravity room exactly as he found it and couldn't believe he'd been busted. Swallowing heavily, he opened his mouth to speak and defend himself, but his mouth was suddenly drier than sand.

"Aw, what's the matter, human? You came looking for me, and now that I'm here, you don't want to play anymore," Vegeta snarled mockingly.

"You don't scare me, Vegeta!" Yamcha shot back, finally finding his voice. He wasn't about to be so easily intimidated by Vegeta, and especially not in front of Bulma. Summoning up his courage, he warily crouched into a defensive position so he'd be ready to engage the Saiyan if needed, even though he knew he didn't stand a chance. Vegeta raised an amused eyebrow at this. The human paled in comparison to Kakarot's child in strength, skill, and speed. And he wanted to face _him? _

"Ah, so you _did _come looking for a fight."

"No, I didn't, I just… I just wanted to see if I could handle the gravity simulation…" Yamcha reluctantly admitted in hopes of diffusing the situation. His face burned red from his embarrassment; he couldn't believe he was actually admitting this to Vegeta of all people. Bulma's head immediately snapped to him, her blue eyes widening in shock at what her boyfriend had just said. She got up to her feet angrily and hit her boyfriend as hard as she could on his arm.

"Yamcha, what is the matter with you! You know that's too much for you!" Bulma chastised him, making Yamcha's embarrassment increase via tenfold. "What if something had happened to you in there, huh? We would've had to scrape you off the floor, you idiot!"

"You should listen to your mate," Vegeta said with a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. "You, in _my_ gravity chamber? To be perfectly honest, I'm surprised you are still alive, weakling."

Yamcha felt his fury flare as he glared at the Saiyan Prince. "I wasn't looking to fight you when I went into the gravity room, Vegeta, but if you came here to pick a fight then I'll give you a fight!" he yelled.

"Very well, human," Vegeta said with an amused smirk, clenching his fists, the air around him rushing faster and physically forcing Bulma and Yamcha back to the ground as his blue aura exploded around him. Yamcha gulped.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

"You should know that a Saiyan never backs down from a challenge. You won't be much competition, but you'll serve as a suitable warmup." Vegeta's smirk grew, a glimmer of dark, murderous intent in his eyes. "I must warn you though, that fights with me only end in death. So what do you say, weakling? Are you prepared to die?"

"Stop this!" Bulma yelled, getting back up to her feet. She stalked angrily right up to Vegeta, earning a momentary look of surprise from him. "Stop this right now!"

Vegeta's surprise quickly melted away into anger. Who the hell did this Earth woman think she was, barking orders at _him? _He gave her a threatening sneer as she came up to stand right in front of him.

"Blasted woman, get out of my way!" Vegeta growled, motioning with his arm for her to move as he gave her a fierce glare. "Unless you want to die along with your mate!"

"Bulma, get away from him!" Yamcha shouted, suddenly terrified of her proximity to the Saiyan Prince. What in the world was his girlfriend doing? Had she gone completely mad? She was only about a foot away from _Vegeta _of all people! His protective urges igniting inside of him, Yamcha scrambled up to his own feet in record time and ran towards them. Bulma looked over her shoulder and motioned for him to stop. Yamcha did when he saw the look on her face, but his whole body was tense. She was just standing too close to Vegeta for his own comfort. Yamcha clenched his teeth as he watched, ready to defend Bulma at any moment if necessary.

"Oh, he's not going to do a thing to me," Bulma said over her shoulder, before turning to glare at the prince in front of her. A deep scowl settled into Vegeta's features when she fearlessly walked closer to him, until they were only inches apart. "You don't scare _me, _Vegeta," she told him matter-of-factly, her blue eyes blazing with determination.

"I should," he told her coldly, his dark eyes boring straight into hers.

"Sorry to disappoint," she told him calmly, raising an almost challenging eyebrow.

Vegeta's eye twitched involuntarily when he saw no fear in her eyes. "Get out of my way, or I _will _kill you, woman," he warned her bluntly, his tone conveying no signs of bluffing. "Do _not _test me."

"I don't believe you."

He growled and the air around him began to spark with his dangerous energy as he got in her face. It took all of Bulma's strength to remain standing and not fall on her behind from the forces he was effortlessly generating.

"Are you calling me a coward, woman?" Vegeta snarled, the threat of violent punishment dripping from each syllable.

"No, no, not at all," Bulma clarified, before giving him a warm smile. A look of confusion came over Vegeta's face at that, and his energy level waned a bit. Her smile only grew more as she put her hands on her hips and gave him a knowing look, as if she knew a secret that he didn't. "But Krillin and Gohan told me about you when you were on Namek, about how you saved their lives against the Ginyu Force… a guy like that can't be _that _bad."

"I have killed millions and have ended entire races, entire civilizations. I am more than capable of destroying you, your mate, and your entire worthless human race!" Vegeta nearly screamed in her face, his energy level rising dangerously again. "I spared your pathetic friends because I needed their help to defeat Frieza!"

"Then why aren't Yamcha and me dead yet? Hm?" Bulma challenged, not budging an inch.

"Bulma," Yamcha said from behind her, his voice pleading. He was slowly coming up to her, trying his best not to draw Vegeta's attention or his wrath but the Saiyan Prince had his eyes trained solely on the woman in front of him.

"Get out of the fucking way, woman," Vegeta finally repeated through clenched teeth, his voice low and murderous. "I will not tell you again. This does not concern you."

Bulma felt her resolve waver a bit at the cold look in his eyes. She knew that Vegeta wasn't bluffing; she was well aware of the chaos and violence he was capable of, and had seen it up close and personal when he had viciously dismantled and then killed one of Frieza's evil lieutenants on Namek. She also knew that he wasn't lying or exaggerating when he said that millions had died at his hands.

But what _she _had said was true as well, and her pride refused to let the Saiyan Prince win this battle of wills. Someone had to take a stand to him, someone had to knock him down a notch or two and show him that this type of behavior was unacceptable.

Someone had to show him that he could be a better person.

Krillin had told her over the last week the story that Vegeta had told him, Gohan, Piccolo, and Goku as he had laid dying in the dirt on Namek. He had told her how Vegeta had grown up living under the command of Frieza, and how Frieza had blackmailed the youth into doing his bidding by threatening his father. She felt like she understood Vegeta much better after that, and when Krillin told her that Vegeta had actually saved his life and Gohan's, she knew then that Vegeta was not hopeless… not anymore.

He had learned to be heartless and cruel, but he could unlearn it too. She didn't know how just yet, but she knew and truly believed that he could. She had left him alone the rest of the week, in peace, as she had contemplated how to break through his hardened shell.

But now here he was, having literally dropped in on her and Yamcha. If she backed down now, he would never respect her. And how would he ever let her in, if he didn't respect her?

It was now or never. She had to take a stand.

"Now you listen _here,_" Bulma told him angrily, reaching out and poking Vegeta right on his bare chest. It actually physically hurt her finger to touch him what with his enormous energy level, but she was beyond caring at this point. Someone needed to do this, and that someone might as well be her.

"Bulma!" Yamcha yelled, his eyes wide as he saw her actually touch Vegeta.

A brief look of genuine shock came over Vegeta's face as she actually touched him, Yamcha's presence mere feet away completely forgotten about. He couldn't believe it; whereas everyone usually recoiled from him in terror, this frail and weak woman actually stood her ground. He'd thought she was just a foolish and ridiculous human, but it turned out that she had tremendous courage, much more than he had ever given her credit for. The prince quickly erased the look of shock off his face, but against his will, a small inkling of admiration crept up through his chest.

"You are staying in _my _house," Bulma continued, completely ignoring Yamcha as she poked Vegeta again on his chest, making the Saiyan flinch, "And you are using _my _gravity room to train with. If I want to, I'll go and _blow _that gravity room up and then you will have nothing to train with. And then how will you be ready for the androids? You won't be," she said sternly, watching as he looked away from her and off to the side as he tried containing his fury.

"You stay in _my _house, then you listen to _my _rules, you got that buddy? And one of the rules is _no fighting! _Is that understood?"

Vegeta clenched his teeth together angrily, his veins strained with tension as he struggled to maintain his composure. Unfortunately, he did need the equipment that only this woman and her family could provide. He exhaled slowly and Bulma watched in satisfaction as his energy level decreased.

Finally, the aura around him disappeared. He took another deep breath before turning back to face her, his face impassive as he simply looked at her for a moment. He then looked over her shoulder at Yamcha, whose jaw was dropped as he watched them both.

"Consider yourself lucky, human," Vegeta sneered at him. Yamcha gulped and backed up as Vegeta turned his eyes back on Bulma. They stared at each other for a while, Bulma's face triumphant and Vegeta's set in stone. She was right, and that infuriated him. "Do not get so arrogant, woman," he warned her, his tone irritated. "You are simply more useful to me alive than dead. That is the only reason your heart still beats."

"Mhmm, _suuure_," Bulma said smugly, before breaking into a bright grin. "Hey, I'll tell you what. How about you take a break from your training and I'll make you some breakfast? I'll make you some pancakes."

Vegeta glared at her before crossing his arms over his chest. With a grunt, he looked off to the side, making his best effort to ignore the fact that he was, in fact, starving. Bulma's grin just grew; he was a stubborn one, alright, but so was she. She turned around and walked over to the front door before looking back over at Vegeta and Yamcha.

"Come on boys, I'll make you both a breakfast feast so you guys can keep training hard," she told them brightly, before disappearing inside to do just that.

"Damn woman," Vegeta muttered under his breath. He almost couldn't wait until the androids came so he finally wouldn't have a need to be housed with such an infuriating female anymore.

"Wow…" Yamcha finally breathed out, his eyes on the door that Bulma had just gone through, his heart surging with love and admiration for his girlfriend who had more guts than he did. "That girl is something else…"

Vegeta found himself silently agreeing, before scowling and stalking up to Yamcha. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of Yamcha's shirt, forcefully yanking the taller man down to him.

"Hey!"

"If you _ever _step foot inside my gravity room again, I will kill you, human," Vegeta snarled in his face. Fear came across Yamcha's face at the fury in Vegeta's eyes. "And your mate will not be there to save you next time. Understand?"

Vegeta shoved Yamcha back, sending the man sprawling on the grass. Yamcha groaned when he landed hard, before sitting up to glare at the Saiyan Prince. Vegeta though had already disappeared. Yamcha scowled and muttered curses under his breath for the Saiyan. The sooner that man left his life and Bulma's, the better.

Meanwhile, Bulma heard a chair scrape across her kitchen floor as she made a few boxes worth of pancake mix for both Yamcha and Vegeta. She shook her head in disapproval, not bothering to look behind her and just assuming it was Yamcha.

"I can't _believe _you actually snuck into the gravity room, you idiot," she sighed as she continued mixing. Vegeta simply watched her from behind, his dark eyes roaming over her figure before finally settling on her hips. "You could have seriously been hurt. Don't tell me you actually activated the simulator to its maximum. You better have kept it under…"

The heiress lost her trail of thought when she turned around, only to find that it was Vegeta who was sitting at her kitchen table. The Saiyan Prince just looked at her, his face expressionless and guarded. He did raise an eyebrow at her silence though.

"Don't tell me you are out of words already, woman," he said, his tone detached. "You seemed to have plenty when we were outside and you were standing up to me."

"I… I'm sorry, I thought you were Yamcha," Bulma said apologetically. She gave him a wary look before turning back around and pouring out the pancake mix with precision into several pans as Vegeta watched.

"Do not compare me to your weakling mate ever again," Vegeta warned her. Bulma just sighed and rolled her eyes. Always agitated, that was about right when it came to him. Vegeta scowled as he watched her pour out the pancake mix. "And what the devil are you making? Are you going to poison me?"

"I'm making pancakes," Bulma replied with a patient tone. She looked over her shoulder and smiled a little at the brief confusion in his eyes. "It's just food, Vegeta."

"I _know _that," Vegeta growled defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. "You Earthlings and your ridiculous food," he muttered, though the smell that filled the kitchen was making him practically salivate in anticipation.

Yamcha finally entered the kitchen just then, rubbing his back a little. He scowled at the sight of Vegeta sitting at the kitchen table. He'd been hoping the Saiyan bastard would've gone back to his training, but it didn't seem like he was that lucky today. Vegeta snorted in amusement at the sight of him.

"What's the matter? Don't tell me I hurt you already," Vegeta told him, a smirk spreading over his face.

"Yeah, whatever man," Yamcha mumbled, sitting down across the table from Vegeta.

"Pathetic," Vegeta said in disgust.

"Stop it, both of you," Bulma warned, before placing a plate with an enormous amount of pancakes in between them. She took a smaller plate and placed three neat stacks of five pancakes each on the plate, before bringing that plate over to Vegeta. He scowled as she placed it in front of him.

"What do I do with these?" Vegeta asked impatiently, looking curiously at the food in front of him. He was more of a dinner man than a breakfast man, much preferring the meats that Bulma or her mother prepared for dinner than the early morning foods. Bulma handed him a fork and knife, laughing a little as she brought him a bottle of syrup.

"Here, I'll show you," Bulma said, opening the bottle and pouring syrup all over his pancakes. He watched the process with his usual intense concentration, learning. The whole idea of condiments on food was one he wasn't used to, and it seemed to him that humans had an outrageous amount of crap to put on their food. Bulma snuck him a look when he picked up his fork and knife, and smiled with satisfaction that he had remembered how she had showed him to properly hold them. She had only shown him once, and that was months ago before he had gone into space after Goku. She'd been pissed at him at the time because he had been extremely difficult and then completely dismissive of her efforts, and she couldn't help but feel satisfied that he had not only been paying attention, but had remembered perfectly.

"What is that, anyways?" Vegeta demanded, glaring at the syrup with a look like it would attack him at any moment.

"It's syrup, it gives the pancakes more flavor," Bulma patiently explained. "Now you just cut up the pancakes, and enjoy." He grunted and began to eat as she watched him for a moment, still impressed that he had actually been paying attention to her before. Her smile spread a little.

Yamcha suddenly cleared his throat. "Um, Bulma? I'm kinda starving over here you know…"

"Oh yeah," Bulma laughed, turning towards Yamcha. "Sorry babe."

Vegeta ate silently as Bulma served Yamcha, never having tasted anything like what he was eating but loving every single bite. He often complained about humans and their food choices, but the truth of the matter was that compared to the food options he'd had while working for Frieza, even this plate of pancakes tasted like a damn royal feast. Of course, he would never admit that to any of the humans he was housed with. He didn't even give Bulma a look or acknowledgment as she brought him a large glass of orange juice. He immediately grasped the glass from her hand and downed the entire thing in one effort as Bulma and Yamcha both looked at him in shock.

Finally, Vegeta placed the empty glass down and pushed it lightly towards Bulma.

"Fill it," he ordered, "now."

Bulma growled, hating that he spoke to her like she was a damn slave, but she kept her temper in check. He was there, sitting with them, and she wasn't going to push his buttons (if she could help it). Yamcha glared at Vegeta as Bulma took his glass and went to refill it.

"Jerk," Yamcha muttered under his breath. Vegeta looked up and gave Yamcha a cold glare, and Yamcha responded by quickly shoving a forkful of pancakes into his mouth.

"Here you go," Bulma said brightly, placing a glass of juice in front of the prince. She waited for a thank you, but it never came. "You're _welcome_," she told him sarcastically. Vegeta just smirked, finishing the last bite of his pancakes. He then shoved the plate towards her, silently ordering more, and she sighed and placed ten more pancakes on his plate. She was going to pour the syrup for him, but could only blink when Vegeta snatched the bottle first and did it himself.

"So, is there a movie out we can see tonight?" Yamcha said, his mouth full of food. Vegeta and Bulma both looked over at him and gave him simultaneous looks of disgust. Yamcha blinked in surprise, before defensively asking, "What?"

"You're eating like a cow, that's what," Bulma told him, annoyance in her voice. She motioned towards Vegeta, "Look, you don't see Vegeta eating with such poor manners, do you?"

Vegeta grunted as he started working on his second serving of pancakes, eyeing Bulma carefully as she finally sat down between them to enjoy her breakfast. He couldn't help but smirk at the annoyance on her face towards her mate.

"Well, at least I can say please and thank you," Yamcha muttered.

"Yes, too bad I can't just combine the both of you," Bulma replied sarcastically.

"Whatever," Yamcha answered, angrily cutting into his pancakes.

"How did you learn to eat with such manners anyways?" Bulma asked Vegeta suddenly, startling the prince who hadn't been expecting to be dragged into this useless human conversation. He glared at her while he chewed quietly, wondering if he should even bother answering. Finally, he swallowed and figured he'd humor her.

"I learned when I was a boy," Vegeta replied, thinking that would be the end of it.

"Oh? With Frieza?" Bulma asked curiously.

Vegeta's fork and knife dropped suddenly, startling Bulma and Yamcha. Vegeta shoved his plate with his half-eaten pancakes away and stood up.

"That is enough," he said, his tone and expression cold. "It's time I resume my training and stop this human foolishness."

Before Bulma could say a word, he was gone. She sighed in disappointment, watching the door where he'd just stormed out of, realizing for the first time how sore a subject Frieza must have been to the Saiyan. Yamcha just shook his head knowingly, as if he'd known all along.

"That guy is _such _a jerk. Honestly, you should just put the gravity chamber back in its capsule, and let him go off to a deserted island to train. Ingrate," Yamcha said with a sneer.

"Oh, just leave Vegeta alone," Bulma told him, turning back to her food with a thoughtful expression. "You don't know what he's been through in his life."

"Yeah, and what, you do?" Yamcha asked her, snorting as if it was stupid question.

"You're just as much of a jerk as he is sometimes," Bulma replied in disgust. "No, I don't know what he's been through."

But she was determined to find out.


	3. Pain

**A/N: Going to tweak the original storyline, just a tiny bit. Just giving a heads up so I don't get reviews from hardcore fans saying that's not exactly what was said/how it happened on the show lol… don't worry, they're just minor things, the gist is the same. :)**

**Read and enjoy (I hope)!**

* * *

"_Come here, boy. The rest of you, leave us."_

_Vegeta approached his father who had his back turned to him while his father's best soldiers left the room. The small boy glanced at them, a scowl on his young face as he walked up to his father. His royal cape attached to his custom-made Saiyan armor flowed behind him gracefully as he walked to his father and his king. A strange feeling of unease coursed through his young body at the sound of his father's tone. It was unfamiliar to him, and he didn't know what it meant._

_He stopped when he was on his father's right side, and crossed his arms across his chest. They both stood there, gazing out of the glass together in silence. Vegeta observed the vast land of the planet he and his father were named after, the land that he would one day rule over when his time came to be king. _

"_You called for me, Father?" Vegeta finally asked, his eyes still staring straight ahead. _

"_Frieza is expecting a full report on our progress in overtaking the planet Tazba," King Vegeta said bluntly, his deep voice echoing in the room. He also kept his eyes straight ahead. "We are anticipating having overtaken the planet for him by tonight. Tomorrow we will go and give him the report on what has transpired."_

_Vegeta nodded, not knowing what this all had to do with him. His father rarely involved him in his business affairs with Frieza. He was just a boy, but he knew the tyrant named Frieza had control over his father and his people. He therefore didn't much care that he was rarely present to see the humiliation in person. _

"_You are coming with us tomorrow, boy," King Vegeta said. Vegeta nodded again, not exactly thrilled at the idea of watching his father report to the alien freak that was Frieza. He knew better though than to voice such a thought. _

"_Yes, Father. Are you going to begin training me in your business affairs for the day that I become king?"_

_His father tensed, and an eerie quiet filled the room. Vegeta noticed his father's tension, but remained quiet as he curiously observed him out of the corner of his eye. He didn't understand why his father was behaving so strangely._

_King Vegeta then placed a hand on his son's shoulder. Vegeta turned to him then, his mask of indifference disappearing as he gazed up at his father with confused eyes, his arms now at his sides._

"_Father? Is something wrong?" Vegeta asked. _

_King Vegeta turned and looked down at the boy before him, the boy that looked so much like him. "You are coming with us tomorrow to see Frieza, son. And..." the king paused, pain and regret in his eyes, "You are going to stay with Frieza."_

_Vegeta's mouth ran dry. The boy turned away from his father and looked back out the glass window, fear crawling up his spine at the words his father was saying. He looked at the land before him, and slowly realized that his life was never going to be the same. _

"_But I do not want to go with him, Father," he finally said in a low voice. His face was impassive and indifferent as he spoke, but his voice betrayed the pain that was consuming his very being at the future that awaited him. "I want to stay here with you."_

"_And I do not want you with him," King Vegeta said, keeping his hand on his son's shoulder as he also turned to look out the window again. "But there is nothing we can do, son. He wants you, and therefore, he must have you. If I do not give him to you, he will kill you."_

"_I will fight him," Vegeta said, the pain in his voice gone and replaced with pure hatred as his small body trembled with rage. King Vegeta looked down at him, feeling his son's growing energy level. "I will destroy him and free us from his reign. I will destroy him!" he shouted._

"_Quiet, boy!" King Vegeta said sternly, grabbing his son suddenly by the collar and lifting the boy off the ground so they were eye-to-eye. He shook him angrily, "Do not speak these words again, do you understand! If one of Frieza's men hear your words, they will kill you! Do not be a fool, boy!" _

_He let Vegeta go, and the boy fell on the floor in a heap. He sat up, his eyes closed as he fought to keep his unshed tears in, his teeth clenched tightly. He could feel the hatred in his body growing as he realized that his father was right. _

_There was nothing they could do. _

"_Stand up, Vegeta," the king commanded sternly. The boy slowly stood, his fists clenched as he faced his father, his head lowered and his eyes still closed. The king's expression softened as he gazed at his son, and his tone was calm when he spoke again, "Look at me, boy."_

_Vegeta slowly raised his head, his face full of hatred for Frieza. His reddened eyes, brimming with unshed tears, met his father's._

"_I am a prince, Father, and now… now, I am going to be a slave," Vegeta said, his voice void of emotion. King Vegeta winced inwardly at the words, before frowning at his son. He knelt down so that they were on the same level._

"_You listen to me, boy," King Vegeta said, putting each of his hands on his son's shoulders. "You are my son, and the prince of our people. No matter what happens, you must never forget who you are. No matter what Frieza says or does to you, you must remember that you are Prince Vegeta, and that you have the potential to be the most powerful Saiyan who has ever lived. You must never show Frieza any weaknesses, and you must never forget your heritage. You must be strong, son."_

"_Yes, Father," Vegeta said with a nod, his eyes fiercely determined as he looked his father right in the eye. "I will not forget." _

"_Do not worry, my son," King Vegeta said with a smirk as he stood. He kept an arm around Vegeta as they both turned to look at the land before them. "Frieza will not rule over us forever. We will end his reign of terror, and we will come for you and take you away from him, Vegeta. Then one day, you will rise and take your place as the new king of the Saiyans."_

_Vegeta smirked at that, his fear gone as he crossed his arms again. "I look forward to that day, Father. I will be ready."_

"_I know you will, boy. Now go, you must prepare your things for our departure tomorrow…"_

_Vegeta nodded and turned, walking back the way he came. Before he left the room, he glanced over his shoulder at his father. The king once again had his back to the prince and he gazed out through the glass and into the night._

"_Father?" The king turned his head slightly, not looking back at his son, but enough to acknowledge him. Vegeta hesitated, not wanting to ask but needing to ask. "Do you promise that you will come for me?"_

_The king turned back to look out in the night, not wanting his son to see the uncertainty on his face. Convincingly, he replied, "Son, you have my word…"_

* * *

Vegeta woke up with a start, sitting straight up in his bed. He was breathing heavily, a thin sheet of sweat covering his body. With a shaky hand, he removed the bed sheets and moved so he was sitting on the edge of his bed. He rested his elbows on his knees, leaned forward, and covered his face in his hands.

He stayed in that position for a long time as his breathing returned to normal. His flashback had been so _real_, he could practically feel his father's arm around him again. Something tore at him inside as he remembered that feeling.

His father's "word" had turned out to be a fucking joke.

Slowly, Vegeta started wiping the sweat off his face and the bitter taste of his dream away. Sometimes he had pin-point accurate flashbacks, other times he had warped nightmares. He didn't know which were worse, but at the end of the day, the end result was the same: he hardly ever got a good night's sleep. He took a deep breath, before glancing over at the time. The bright red digits on the digital clock read 4:27AM. Slowly, he stood up. A dull ache spread through his muscles from his training the day before. He ignored it though and walked to the window in his room, pulling the curtain back. The sun was not yet up, and it was dark outside.

Vegeta was feeling rather dark himself, feeling that old familiar hatred consuming him again, the hatred he had learned to swallow back as a child. Without a sound, he turned and dressed to begin his training. It would do him well to push himself physically and replace the pain that was flaring up inside of him at the thought of his extremely complicated relationship with his father.

A short while later, he was walking down a hallway to go outside when he saw a dim light coming from the kitchen. He frowned, wondering who was awake at this hour. He didn't know much about human sleep patterns, but he learned that it was rare for the Earthlings to be awake before the sun rose. Sometimes the woman would be awake around 1 or 2AM finishing some scientific work, but he had never seen someone awake this late.

Curiosity getting the best of him, Vegeta walked into the kitchen. He blinked in surprise when he saw Bulma asleep at the table, her head resting in her folded arms as with her head turned away from him. From the light and steady breathing though, she was definitely asleep. There was an intricate circuit board laid out in front of her with various tools and a pair of gloves and goggles. He glanced over at the thing the humans called a coffee machine and saw that there was a cup there and it was filled with what looked like cold coffee. It looked like she had come to the kitchen and was working while her coffee brewed, but hadn't lasted long enough to have her cup of coffee.

He scowled at her and was about to turn to leave when she sighed and sleepily raised her head. His eyes widened as he wondered if she had actually heard him. But how? He hadn't made a single sound.

But Bulma just laid her head back down, this time facing him as she went back to sleep, her eyes never opening. She sighed deeply, before her breathing went back to its slow and deep sleep pattern. Vegeta stood there, captivated, his scowl gone as he stared at her.

She looked so peaceful in her sleep… she looked so… so…

_Beautiful. _

A slow urge slowly started in his stomach and began to travel downwards as he thought of all the things he wanted to do to her. It had been so long since he had been with a woman, especially one as beautiful as her…

He quickly became aware of the familiar feeling coursing through him, and growled impatiently at himself for being so ridiculous. She was a human, one who loved Kakarot, one who had a mate, and one who was loud and overall annoying. The women he had taken to bed had been willing whores, only suitable for servicing him sexually and then never to be seen or heard from again. Sometimes, he had even killed them himself after using them, depending on how pissed he was feeling. The mere notion of entertaining the thoughts in his head with the woman before him was completely and utterly absurd.

Vegeta sneered at her and left the kitchen, without looking back.

* * *

"Well, I still don't think you and your parents should let him stay here," Yamcha said as he scowled at Bulma. She sighed loudly, placing her cup of coffee down as she looked pointedly at him. His scowl just deepened, "Bulma, come on! Look at what happened yesterday! The guy almost killed us both!"

"But he _didn't_," Bulma countered defensively. "So really, it's a moot point."

"Hardly," Yamcha scoffed, pulling his coffee mug closer to him. "Don't you remember what he did to us when he first came to Earth, B? It's because of _him _that I was killed," he sneered in disgust.

Bulma sighed. She already knew where this conversation was going. She took a small sip of her coffee before studying her boyfriend for a few seconds. Finally, she covered one of his hands with her own and gave him a lighthearted smile.

"Yamcha, babe, that was then and this is now. If Vegeta truly, _truly_ wanted us both dead yesterday, we would be. But we're not, see? I, for one, am _very_ much alive," Bulma told him with a wicked and flirtatious smirk. He smirked too when he recognized the playful look in his girlfriend's eyes.

"I can tell," he teased, leaning closer to her. His eyes dropped to her lips, which she licked in anticipation…

Suddenly, the entire house began to shake, the violent rocking sending Bulma and Yamcha off their chairs and crashing to the floor. There was a horrendous sound of glass shattering and metal screeching before the unmistakable sound of an explosion was heard. Finally, everything stopped and was still.

Yamcha and Bulma both sat up and looked at each other, somewhat dazed as Bulma's father shouted from his downstairs laboratory, "What was that?"

"Oh dear, there's smoke outside!" Bunny yelled, pressing her palms up against the window in their large living room. Bulma's eyes widened at her mother's words, realizing there was only one thing that could have caused the entire house to rock like it did.

"Oh no…" she breathed out. Immediately, she was up on her feet and running outside, Yamcha right on her heels.

The metal was ripped and shredded apart, pieces lying everywhere as smoke rose up in the air from the chamber. There were pieces still falling off the chamber from the explosion, and, as Bulma noted with horror, Vegeta was lying right in the middle of the wreckage.

Vegeta's eyes were half open as he stared up at the bright sky, unable to move his bloodied and bruised body even an inch. He felt the pain tearing through him, and knew that he was seriously injured. Always in tune with himself, he could actually feel himself growing weaker as each moment passed. There was a dull ache in the back of his head and it was making it hard as hell to remember what had just happened.

When he couldn't handle the brightness of the daylight anymore, he closed his eyes, welcoming the physical pain. Physical pain, he could deal with. He'd been dealing physical pain his entire life at the hands of Frieza. Losing himself in this pain, he could forget everything...

Bulma's heart sank when she finally reached him. His body was badly bruised, and he didn't seem to be conscious. She should've known this might happen, how could she not have thought of it? She fell to her knees next to him, one hand immediately going to the side of his face.

"Vegeta?" she asked him gently, fear in her voice as she gingerly turned his face towards her. When she got no response, she looked back at Yamcha. "We need help!"

"Right!" Yamcha said, running off to phone someone. Bulma looked down at Vegeta again, and patted his cheek in an effort to rouse him.

"Vegeta, hey, Vegeta, can you hear me?" she asked him gently, trying to keep the panic out of her voice when she took a quick scan of his bloodied and bruised form. Looking back at his face, Bulma sighed with relief when his eyes fluttered a little. Vegeta grimaced before being vaguely aware that the light was now being blocked. He released a low groan and forced himself to squint up at her, and she gave him a small smile. "Hey you, don't scare me like that…"

Weakly, Vegeta tried to push her away from him, though it took practically all his remaining strength to do so. It was in vain anyways. He was spent.

"Idiot woman, get away from me," he hissed, indignant over her "helping" him. Bulma rolled her eyes and grabbed one of his arms, hauling him up so he was semi-sitting while she single-handedly held him up. Vegeta bit his bottom lip hard so he wouldn't whimper at the sensation of being in her arms. Her hands were so unbelievably soft against his calloused skin.

"Vegeta, you need help, so relax," Bulma told him sternly. He closed his eyes and grimaced from the pain, and her forehead wrinkled with concern.

"I do not need your help," he told her through clenched teeth, but he was just too weak to fight her. "I must train, I must surpass Kakarot…"

"Train, are you crazy!" Bulma chastised, frowning at him. Vegeta could feel his energy slipping dangerously low, and it suddenly dawned on him that he might actually die. How stupid had he been?

Then he felt Bulma's fingers gently run through his hair and he immediately lost his train of thought. His body shuddered involuntarily at the unexpected and incredible sensation, and this time, he couldn't help the low whimper of pleasure that escaped him. Her hands felt so, so good on him…

"You're too hurt to train, you need to rest for a while, tough guy," Bulma told him soothingly. He opened his eyes a little to peer up at her in mild confusion. Why was she even there, and why was she holding him and touching him like this?

"I take orders from no one," he growled weakly. Bulma sighed and continued running her fingers through his hair, noting that it seemed to soothe him and hoping it would keep him calm until help arrived. And if she was being honest with himself, she was thrilled that he was letting her actually touch his hair.

Suddenly, a coughing spell came over him and he began to cough violently. Bulma held him through it all, and watched in horror as he began to cough up blood. He rested his head back when it was done, breathing heavily and completely exhausted.

"You'll be okay, we'll help you," she told him, her voice shaky and tears stinging her eyes. He was seriously injured, and she could hear the ambulance sirens now in the background. Couldn't they hurry? "You'll be okay," she assured him again, seeing Yamcha running towards them with her parents in tow.

Vegeta peered up at her again, confused about the look in her eyes as she looked down at him. He didn't recognize that look, that emotion… why was she looking at him like that? He opened his mouth a little to ask, but before he could form the right words, he felt his eyes roll back as he finally passed out.

The last thing he remembered before his world faded to black was her voice cracking as she whispered his name.


	4. Recovery

Bulma softly cracked open the door to the room in the infirmary where Vegeta was resting, poking her head in. They were back at Capsule Corp, having brought the Saiyan Prince back after he spent the night at the hospital. The Saiyan had not yet regained consciousness, but he had been restless during the night. His ki had flared up randomly and had damaged some medical equipment as a result. The Briefs had paid the doctors back for the damage, and then arranged for Vegeta to be transferred back to Capsule Corp. His body had healed enough during the night for all of the doctors to be assured that he would recover from the explosion. The doctors and her parents were amazed by his progress, but Bulma somehow wasn't surprised by it.

She quietly walked into the room, eyeing him carefully as if he would wake up from her walking in, but Vegeta was still out like a light. His head was turned slightly away from her, one of his arms draped over his stomach as he breathed steadily. Bulma's blue eyes scanned over his bandages and the deep blue and purple bruises that littered his body, and her eyes filled with concern. Yes, she had been told again and again that he would be fine, but she still didn't like seeing him like this. Vegeta was strong as a rock, he had no business needing an oxygen mask to breathe like he did at the moment. Seeing him like this felt so wrong and unnatural, and that feeling wouldn't shake until she saw him back to his normal, angry and agitated self.

Bulma placed the books she brought with her on the table she had set up in his room. She was doing research for a new algorithm she could develop to improve a program she had been designing, and had brought her work with her so she could remain at Vegeta's side. She told herself she was only doing this so he wouldn't wake up and fly back to the gravity room. Bulma sat down in the chair that accompanied the table, before opening one of her books.

She read a few sentences before glancing over at him.

A few more sentences, and another glance.

Half a page, a scribble of notes in the margin, and then another glance.

One sentence, and then another glance.

Bulma sighed, irritated with herself, and closed the book. She pulled it close and then folded her arms over it, resting her head in her arms as she looked at him.

Although severely injured, Vegeta never looked more at peace than he did then. Without a scowl or glare on his face, with his facial muscles relaxed and his expression completely at ease as he rested, he was actually… kinda handsome. Bulma had noticed that he was attractive before, but now she couldn't take her eyes off him. She admired his features, from his strong jaw line to his perfect nose to his thick but not too thick eyebrows to his well-defined widow's peak.

He was, indeed, a prince.

_What am I doing? I'm checking out a guy who is unconscious! _Bulma growled inwardly, ashamed of herself as she looked away from him. She stubbornly rested her head back down on her arms, refusing to look at him like that again as she faced the other way. She had a boyfriend, for heaven's sake…

Bulma didn't realize she had dozed off until she was yawning and slowly waking up some time later. She mumbled a little and tried to go back to sleep, when she heard what had woken her up in the first place.

"Kakarot…"

Bulma immediately sobered up from her sleep and looked over at Vegeta, who had almost a pained expression on his face. He was grinding his teeth together, his eyes squeezed tightly closed, both of his hands clenching tight fistfuls of the light sheet that was covering him. His breathing was harsh and irregular as Bulma pulled her chair closer to his bed.

"Vegeta?" she asked gently, placing one hand on his arm.

"I'll get you Kakarot," he said, his voice hoarse. His grip tightened on the sheet covering him, small beads of sweat beginning to appear near his temples as his breathing grew more irregular. "I'll beat you…"

"Vegeta," Bulma said, her voice a little stronger as she reached up to feel his forehead. He was scorching hot. "Wake up, Vegeta," she told him, her hand going down to his face as her worried eyes scrutinized him. He turned his head towards her when he felt her touch, letting out a low moan and grimacing from his pain.

His head was swimming, a cascade of dark memories and images that were all passing by in a blur he was helpless to stop. He could hear the woman vaguely, her voice a distant echo in his head. He couldn't focus on it, images of Kakarot and that boy from the future bombarding him from every direction. He could see them so clearly as they transformed into Super Saiyans, mocking him when they should have been kneeling down before him.

"Vegeta…"

The blue haired woman was saying his name. Bulma. That was her name, but where was she? He saw a flash of her face with her eyes tearing up for him as she held him amidst the wreckage from the gravity room explosion. He opened his mouth to ask where she was, but he could only groan in pain. He suddenly saw his father and hatred immediately shot through him as images of Frieza came to mind…

"_That all sounds well and good," Frieza said, indifferent as he waved off the king. King Vegeta scowled at this blatant disrespect, highly offended but knowing he couldn't do a thing about it. His son next to him was seething on the inside, wanting to torture Frieza to death before violently ending him for good. But his face held no emotion at all. Frieza gave the boy a curious look, taking him in. "Let's get on with the show... you can leave, I would like to introduce myself to your son now."_

_King Vegeta hesitantly turned to his son now. The boy looked up at him, and King Vegeta placed a hand on his son's shoulder. He gave it a squeeze, before nodding to the boy. The boy nodded in return. King Vegeta then turned and motioned for his men to follow him, and they did. Two men remained behind though, their arms crossed over their chests. The king gave them passing glances and a silent understanding passed between them before the king left._

_Vegeta watched his father walk away, letting his eyes linger there long after the king had already departed. The small boy then looked at the two Saiyans who were still in the room. He recognized one as a commander of his father's army, a Saiyan by the name of Nappa. He did not recognize the other man who had long black hair. He must have been a low class warrior. _

_Finally, Frieza cleared his throat._

"_Prince Vegeta," Frieza said with a mock politeness, "We finally meet. And I see you have brought a crowd along with you." Vegeta slowly turned to face Frieza, finally making eye contact with him. He remained silent, glaring at the tyrant which only made Frieza chuckle. "My my, you're not going to even say hello?" Frieza asked kindly as he slowly rose from his seat. _

"_Seems like the boy could use a lesson in etiquette," Zarbon replied, smirking. Vegeta glanced at him, before scowling. _

_Dodoria chuckled, "Oh, he's got a bit of an attitude, Zarbon. Better be careful."_

"_He does have quite a bit of an attitude for a short little monkey, doesn't he?" Frieza asked with delighted laughter. That laughter and those words so infuriated the young prince, that he just could not hold it in any longer. It all came bubbling up before he could stop it._

"_You don't scare me, you ugly freak!" Vegeta shouted at Frieza, clenching his fists. Zarbon and Dodoria both hissed at the boy, but Frieza merely smiled a sinister smile. "You don't own me or my people! You're nothing, Frieza! I am the Prince of all Saiyans, I am son of King Vegeta, I-"_

_Before the boy could even realize what was happening, a sharp and blinding pain brought him to his knees. Vegeta gasped, never having experienced this type of pain before. He was about to crumple down to the floor, tears streaming down his face, when he felt Frieza's hand around his throat. _

_Frieza lifted the boy up off the ground. Vegeta cried out in pain, knowing that his legs were broken. His tears kept coming and he saw out of the corner of his eye that Dodoria and Zarbon were currently viciously beating down the two Saiyans his father had left with him. He closed his eyes in shame, aching for his father to come save him._

_Frieza shook him, laughing, "When I speak to you, you will answer me, boy. I am the most powerful being in the universe, and you are just a lowly, stupid monkey. You may be a prince, Vegeta, but you are prince of a worthless monkey race. You will address me as Lord Frieza, or I will break you in half and then I will break your father in half…" _

_Frieza then released Vegeta, letting the boy fall right on his legs. Vegeta howled in pain, openly crying as he screamed in agony. Frieza just gave him a cruel smirk. _

"_You are weak, boy," Frieza told him. "Don't worry. I will change that… put them in the rejuvenation tanks," he ordered Zarbon and Dodoria. Vegeta was about to pass out from his pain when Zarbon picked him up by the collar._

"_Let's go, little monkey…"_

"No!" Vegeta screamed, violently thrashing in his bed. Bulma was startled by this, and with a yelp, she just barely moved out of the way of him swinging his arm defensively. He would've likely injured her severely if he'd been a fraction of a second faster. He was breathing heavily, his eyes still tightly closed, sweating profusely now. "No, Frieza, NO!"

"Vegeta!" Bulma cried out, reaching out and placing both of her hands on the sides of his face as the room began to rumble under his rising power. "It's okay, you're okay, just breathe!"

His eyes fluttered as her touch and voice broke into his consciousness. The tension slowly began to leave his body at the realization that _she_ was there. If the woman was there, then it wasn't real. Or was it? He was so disoriented and he felt terrible, every muscle in his body aching and burning. He groaned in pain, exhausted and panting for air.

"It's okay," Bulma told him as soothingly as she could, caressing his face which was contorted in a mask of pain. He was responding well to the contact, it was calming him a little, much to her relief.

"Frieza…" he mumbled incoherently.

"He's not here, Vegeta, he's not here… you're okay," Bulma said, continuing to stroke his face, feeling compelled to ease his restless mind. She didn't know why, but his pain was resonating inside of her and she had to try to ease it somehow. She touched his forehead again before frowning in concern at how hot he felt.

Images of the tyrant transforming into his final form filled Vegeta's mind. He suddenly saw a blurred image of Kakarot standing next to him, and his own trembling hand as he reached out to him while he laid in the dirt on Namek as he felt his life slip away…

Vegeta was wondering if he was dying again when he felt something cool press against his forehead. He released a low moan at the sensation. The cool wetness helped ground and orient him, his breathing finally slowing down. The images and memories in his mind gratefully faded away to nothing, and he slowly opened his eyes to look up into a pair of very relieved blue ones. He narrowed his eyes as her face became clearer to him.

"Bulma?" he asked quietly, his voice hoarse.

"Hey you," she told him gently, smiling when she heard him say her name. She wiped away his sweat on his face with the cool wet cloth as he groaned, half because the cloth felt so good and half in annoyance that she was there. "You were having a bad dream, but it's okay now. How about going back to sleep so your body can rest?"

"Do not tell me what to do, woman," he growled weakly, trying to glare at her. Slowly he began to remember the explosion, and as he did, he remembered the part where the blue haired woman had found him. Now she was here with him again while he recovered, and he bitterly wondered what motive she had to care whether he lived or died. There must have been some motive. She could not possibly be doing this just _because_, no one ever helped him without a hidden agenda. "Go away."

"Not until you're better, buddy. You're stuck with me for now, so you just stay quiet and deal with it," Bulma told him, her tone smug but her eyes still filled with concern. He snorted, too weak to argue as he closed his eyes.

Vegeta was trying to clear his tired mind when he felt her soft fingers running through his hair. He couldn't help the shudder that came over him at the feeling. His body doing this against his will pissed him off though, and he opened his eyes just enough to squint angrily at her.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, trying his very best to make his voice sound as dangerous and as threatening as he could. But he was so exhausted, it just sounded like a weak and weary question. He growled and in a ditch attempt to save his pride, he threw in for good measure, "I do not need your help, you idiot human."

"Oh, just relax," Bulma told him, rolling her eyes at his stubbornness. "You need rest, so relax and clear your mind. You _need_ to rest so you can get better."

"Get away from me," he mumbled, struggling to keep his eyes open. Bulma ignored him and continued playing with his hair, her touch very delicate. She brought her fingers down through his hair and gently massaged his scalp with her fingertips.

"Rest now," she commanded him gently.

Vegeta had opened his mouth to object over being given a direct order, but instead felt a low growl of pleasure escape him when he felt what she was doing. He sighed in delight, closing his eyes and succumbing to the feeling, too tired to fight or argue with her. Soon, his mind was clear and his body relaxed as he solely focused on the warm and soothing sensation of her fingers running through his hair. Never, _ever _had he allowed anyone to do this to him, but something about her touching him this way just felt so right…

Bulma smiled when he sighed deeply and turned his head towards her, as if leaning into her touch. She continued playing with his hair, watching as it lulled him back to sleep. After a few minutes, the prince was breathing deeply and rhythmically once again, his chest rising and falling in a perfect rhythm. The tension was gone from his body and she knew he was out again, but she kept playing with his hair anyways. For such a fierce warrior, Vegeta had incredibly soft hair. She loved that he had let her touch his hair, though she did realize that when he was better, he would probably never allow her to do so again.

Her eyes went down a little and she looked at the scars on his body. She moved her free hand to one of the scars on his chest which was large but now mostly faded. She very gingerly traced it out, her fingertips barely grazing his warm skin, wondering when and where he had gotten it. It looked painful even though it was healed, and he had many other scars that were similar.

He had endured so much physical and emotional pain in his life, it was no _wonder_ he was the way he was. How could no one else see how much pain he was holding onto? It was so obvious to Bulma. If she could somehow get him to open up to her, maybe he could get that weight off his shoulders. She looked up from his scar to his sleeping face, took his hand in hers, and she silently made him a promise.

_I know there's more to you than meets the eye, and I'm not giving up on you…_

* * *

Yamcha opened the door to Vegeta's room and scowled at the sight that greeted him. Bulma was sitting on a chair that was turned to face the Saiyan Prince's bed, her head in her arms, and her arms resting on the side of his bed as she dozed. Vegeta was asleep as well, and Yamcha glared at the man silently as he approached the bed.

"Bulma," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Bulma immediately woke up, her head shooting up as she instantly looked at Vegeta. He was still sound asleep though, and she let out a relieved breath before realizing there was someone else in the room. Looking over her shoulder, she gazed up at an angry face glaring back down at her.

She smiled tiredly, "Hey babe."

"Can I talk to you," Yamcha said in a low voice, glancing at the Saiyan lying in the bed, "In private."

"Oh, Vegeta is out cold, he won't hear," Bulma replied, looking back at the prince as Yamcha grumbled under his breath.

"Bulma, please," he insisted. She sighed, agitated as she stood up.

"Fine," she stated, her tone very clearly annoyed. She followed Yamcha out of the room and closed the door quietly behind her.

Vegeta slowly opened his eyes when he heard the door click shut. On pure instincts honed after years of survival, he had woken up immediately when he felt Yamcha approaching his room, but he had been so tired that he opted against picking a fight with the man. By the time he noticed with both surprise and agitation that Bulma was still at his side, the doorknob had already been turning. Deciding he would rather not bother with two weak humans fussing over him, the Saiyan Prince had feigned sleep, hoping they would take the hint and leave him the hell alone.

He heard them talking with hushed tones outside of his door, trying to be quiet, but unaware that Saiyans were blessed with increased senses. He could hear them as clearly as if they were talking right in front of him.

No matter though. Now that the blasted woman had finally left him alone, he could leave and resume his training. Vegeta reached up to his oxygen mask and removed it, throwing it aside as he slowly struggled to sit up. He winced, his body stiff and sore as he overheard the conversation outside of his door.

"All I'm saying is you don't need to babysit him, he's a Saiyan, he'll be fine," Yamcha grumbled. He crossed his arms over his chest and returned his girlfriend's glare. "Besides, why do you care about him anyways? Don't you remember that he came to Earth to kill us all?"

Bulma groaned. Not _this _conversation again. "He came to Earth looking for the Dragon Balls. Technically the only person he killed when he was here was his friend, the bald guy. So _technically, _he hasn't done anything wrong to us."

Vegeta cringed as he was reminded of what he had done to Nappa. His eyes grew confused though as he realized something else. He looked over at the door, his breathing labored as he finally dragged his body up so he was sitting. She was defending him to her mate?

Why?

"He got me _killed_, Bulma, what part of that don't you understand?" Yamcha growled angrily, furious that she was playing with fire with the dangerous Saiyan Prince. "He beat the hell out of Goku, he beat the hell out of everyone!"

"And then he helped Goku on Namek," Bulma countered.

"Only because he's a conniving jerk who needed Goku," Yamcha shot back.

Bulma let out an infuriated howl of frustration. "There is no winning with you!" she cried in exasperation. "Look, you jackass_, _Vegeta is hurt right now, and he needs someone who can be there for him."

"Well I for one am _glad _he's hurt," Yamcha snapped. "Maybe that will teach him that he's not so high and mighty, and that no one cares about his stupid prince heritage."

Vegeta's fury flared at the Earthling's words, and on pure willpower that was driven by his pride, he finally managed to get himself up out of bed. His legs were weak though and he had to leave one hand on the bed to remain upright, but he would be damned to let that weak, pathetic _human_ insult his heritage. He grit his teeth together, grimacing from the pain ripping through him, already trying to devise a strategy to kill the human without making himself worse in the process.

He stopped though and cringed when he heard the woman scream, _"_HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT? Vegeta has done NOTHING to you, and you are GLAD that he's hurt? Do you realize that he could have DIED? Then how would you feel, you heartless bastard?" Bulma screamed in Yamcha's face as he backed up a little, frightened by her outburst. "How do you think I would feel knowing that a gravity room that I helped design, hell, that I fucking _built_, ended someone's life, huh?"

Vegeta looked at the door with a bewildered expression on his face, mixed emotions as he heard the woman vigorously defend his honor. He would have smirked at that if he didn't feel so utterly confused by her words. If he had died in the explosion, he would have felt nothing but shame in the next dimension for being so careless with his training. He never, ever thought that someone would actually be left tormented by his death.

And he had never thought that someone would be her.

Slowly and sluggishly, the Saiyan Prince turned and trudged over to the window in the room. He needed to leave. He needed to train and get his mind off of confusing things which he did not understand. He muttered curses for the humans under his breath, refusing to give their emotional nonsense another thought. It was all just a weakness, and he had enough physical weakness to deal with at the moment.

"I take it back," Yamcha finally relented, but Bulma was staring a hole into him. If looks could kill, he would be six feet under. "It's just we were supposed to have dinner tonight and you're here with him, and you completely forgot…" he frowned as his voice trailed off, gazing at her.

Bulma sighed, her eyes softening. "I know, I am sorry about that. I just needed to stay with him."

"It's fine," Yamcha said dismissively, not letting on how hurt he had been. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before sighing again, making direct eye contact with his girlfriend. "Listen, I can see what you're trying to do. You're trying to help him, you think you can change him. But he's a monster B, he has always been a monster, and he's never going to change."

"You don't know that," Bulma shot back angrily. "You don't know him."

"Neither do you."

Bulma opened her mouth to retort, but she had no response for that. The blue haired heiress scowled and crossed her arms over in front of her, looking at the prince's door. On the other side, Vegeta was perched on the windowsill, the fresh air outside alluring to him. It felt so good to him, and he was moments away from going to his gravity room. He could see it from where he was, it was so close. He would be there in mere seconds if he flew.

He was hesitating though, looking over his shoulder towards the door as he waited for the woman to respond. He didn't know why, but he just wanted to hear what she had to say.

"Look, I can't explain it. It's just a feeling that I have, that he's not that bad of a person. He's here, he's fighting on our side, he's helping us. He's on _all _of our sides, Yamcha… don't you think he could use at least one person on his?"

Vegeta heard her words and looked back outside, hesitating for a moment as he scowled. Grimacing slightly, he took off into the air and headed straight over to his gravity room, not wanting to hear another minute of the nonsense the woman was saying. He was a loner, and he'd come to terms with that a long time ago.

"Well I don't trust him," Yamcha growled.

Bulma sighed, "No one does, and then everyone wonders why he's such a jerk all of the time."

"Fine, but don't you come crying to me when he throws all of this back in your face," Yamcha said harshly, looking off to the side.

Bulma's glare suddenly disappeared, and it was slowly replaced by a knowing smirk as she put her hands on her hips. "Are you _jealous _of Vegeta?"

"What? No!" Yamcha shot back indignantly, huffing as if she had offended him greatly. Bulma just smiled widely, before closing the distance between them and hugging him. Yamcha tried to hang onto his anger, but it was a losing battle. He sighed and hugged her back tightly.

"You're so cute when you're jealous," Bulma teased before laughing. Pulling back, she kissed him on the cheek.

"Whatever," Yamcha said, though the anger was gone from his voice.

"Look, let me check on Vegeta and then we'll go get a late dinner, okay?"

His eyes considerably brightened at that and he smiled, "That sounds great. I'll be by the front waiting."

"Okay."

She watched him leave before turning and quietly entering the prince's room. To her dismay, the bed he had been lying in was empty. The bed sheet was thrown aside, as was his oxygen mask. Bulma's eyes shot over to the open window, and she growled. She should have known better, and she mentally kicked herself for not seeing this coming sooner as she left his room. She headed the opposite way that Yamcha had, going to a different exit that would bring her close to the gravity room.

_That stubborn jerk, he's going to kill himself like this… I'm going to give him a piece of my mind…_


	5. Confrontations

_Eighty-four. Eighty-five. Eighty-six…_

A sheet of sweat covered his body, half of his bandages on the floor with the other half just hanging loosely off of him, every muscle feeling like it was on the verge of ripping right off his bones. Vegeta felt the pain ripping through him as he trained in the gravity room, every push-up intensifying the agony just a little more.

_Ninety-one. Ninety-two. Ninety-three…_

His body trembled slightly from the excruciating pain, every muscle, tissue, practically every cell begging him to stop the torture. Vegeta grimaced, a wave of dizziness hitting him as the floor suddenly began to tilt before him. The Saiyan Prince growled furiously at this, his growing pain only making him angrier, the frustration swelling inside of him. No, it was not enough. He hadn't even done one hundred push-ups and his body was threatening to quit on him.

But he would not quit. He could not quit until he had the power that rightfully belonged to him. Vegeta grit his teeth and shifted, lifting his right arm and putting it behind his back as he went to one-armed push-ups.

"_Initiating gravity simulation… 400 times Earth's normal gravity…"_

The increase from 350 to 400 felt like it was going to break every bone in his body in half. Every time he lowered himself to the floor, part of him wanted to just collapse and not get back up.

Madness.

_One-oh-four. One-oh-five. One-oh-six._

Torture.

He stopped counting, focusing instead on the movements to keep some semblance of sanity.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

He felt the fire burning in his muscles, felt and saw the sweat dripping on the floor before him, but still he pushed on. He knew that somewhere, right at that very moment, Kakarot was training with his half-breed brat. Kakarot wasn't taking it easy, and that only meant that Vegeta had to work even harder to catch up to him. He was already behind Kakarot, and he could not afford to fall further behind or he was never going to catch up to the younger Saiyan. He had to put in two minutes worth of work into every minute of time if he was to ever stand a chance.

And then there were the androids. It was already his fate to be killed by them. He, the Prince of all Saiyans, destined to be thrown by the wayside by machines.

No. He had to, _needed, _to do more.

Vegeta bit his lip, hard, drawing blood as he squeezed his eyes shut while a violent pain ripped through him. The dizziness suddenly came back in waves, and his arm trembled. Had he really become so weak from that insignificant explosion?

Fury and rage consumed him as he blinked away the dizziness, angry that his body felt so fragile… so _human_. He was a warrior, a Saiyan Elite, and this weakness was not suitable for him. As if to prove this point to himself, Vegeta gathered up whatever scraps of strength that he had left and lifted himself right into the amplified force of gravity, now doing a handstand. If he could grind his teeth any harder, he would crush them completely.

Methodically, he resumed his push-ups like this. So consumed was he in what he was doing, that he didn't even hear the banging on the door of the gravity room.

"Vegeta!" Bulma yelled, angrily pounding on the door. She glared at the Saiyan Prince through the oval glass window on the door, and bristled when he completely ignored her. "Open this door right now!"

His sensitive ears could just vaguely make out the woman's voice. But with the extra padding and sound-proofing she herself had done in the gravity room, it was muffled and consequently very easy to ignore. He tuned out the woman, tuned out his pain, tuned out the entire world.

_Up…_

_Down…_

"Alright, buddy," Bulma growled, flipping down the cover of the numeric pad that was next to the entrance to the gravity room. She rapidly punched in the code for the emergency entrance that could override the internal lock. She knew that this very situation might happen, and had prepared ahead of time. "You asked for it…"

Relief immediately flooded Vegeta's body, overwhelming and surprising the prince and sending his exhausted body crashing onto the floor. He landed in a heap, panting and gasping for air, his muscles aching as his body finally gained some reprieve. The pressure and unbearable force that had been bearing down on him had been gratefully lifted, but he still felt like he could barely move at all.

_What the hell is going on here? _he wondered, not knowing why that the gravity simulation had turned off so suddenly.

He didn't have to wonder long.

"That is _enough, _Vegeta!"

The prince slowly opened his eyes as he regained his breath, seeing an upside-down Bulma standing right over him. Her hands were on her waist and she was glaring daggers at him. He growled angrily in response.

"How dare you interrupt my training, idiot Earthling!" he snarled at her, furious that she was now meddling in his training too.

"Look, you _dweeb_," Bulma started, bending down menacingly. "You might not want to believe it, but even the almighty Prince of all Saiyans is made of flesh and bones! You are in no condition to be training right now!"

Vegeta slowly lifted his head off the floor and with considerable difficulty, started to pull his upper body up. Bulma straightened, frustrated with him but still concerned as she watched how hard it was for him to move. She maintained her ground though, knowing that after interrupting his masochistic training session, he would be in no mood to accept any kind of help.

He shot her an enraged look. "Blasted woman," he sneered, "What I do with my body does not concern you or anyone else! Now I order you to leave at once so I can resume my training!"

"I am going nowhere until you leave this gravity room!" she yelled at him. "I won't let you kill yourself like this!"

"What do you care if I live or die, woman!" he yelled back. He sat up, his palms on the floor behind him as he kept himself up, watching as she straightened at his words. Surprise momentarily crossed her features, before an indignant look came over her face as if he had gravely offended her.

"_Of course _I care whether you live or die!" she shouted angrily. "I mean, _hello, Earth to Vegeta, _I wouldn't be standing here if I didn't care!" He snorted, clearly not believing her.

"Tell me something, woman," Vegeta breathed, shifting his weight and slowly forcing himself back up to his feet. It took him a moment, but he finally stood up, albeit unsteadily. Bulma looked on, watching him with pure admiration. The man's will power was second to none.

His dark eyes turned towards her, his expression unreadable. "Do you care if _you _live or die?"

She tensed a little at the question. Or maybe it was the look on his face that made her hesitate. "Well of course I do," she said, the indignation back in her voice and her face. "Why--"

"THEN STOP PESTERING ME!" he roared, startling her. "The androids are coming, and they will kill you and all of your pathetic friends, without mercy, and without hesitation. They will destroy your entire planet, you stupid Earth woman! What part of that are you failing to understand?"

"And do you think killing yourself day in and day out is going to help?" Bulma shouted back. Why was he so stubborn that he couldn't see it? "What part of getting a few days of rest and letting your body heal do _you _not understand!"

Vegeta scoffed and folded his arms over his chest. "Woman, if everyone on this planet is as idiotic as you are, then I should let the androids wipe the planet out. You humans are pathetic with your ridiculous sentimentality."

"I'm idiotic because I don't want you to kill yourself? I'm stupid because I know that you should be resting and not in here beating your body into the ground?" Bulma stopped guarding her concern, and he scowled deeply at the look in her pleading blue eyes. "Vegeta, you aren't recovered for this."

"Get out," he growled, his entire face appearing to darken. His black eyes were threatening. Dangerous. "Now."

Bulma raised her chin and folded her arms over in front of her, mirroring his position. Her look was defiant. "I am not going anywhere until you walk out of here with me." Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit him again, hard. He blinked rapidly, angrily pushing the sensation away. He shook his head quickly and squinted, trying to clear his head. "Hey, are you okay?" Bulma asked, her tone softening as she walked towards him. "What's wrong?"

He gave a low growl as she approached him, and she suddenly felt like she was approaching a wild and stray dog while hoping it didn't attack her. She stopped, hesitating as he gave her a furious glare. "I do not need your help, I can take care of myself," he snarled. "Stay away from me."

"I just want to make sure you're okay, geez, a girl can't be nice to anyone without getting the third degree," Bulma said as she rolled her eyes. He gave her a deep frown in response, studying her, trying to read her motives for her concern. She was such an enigma to him.

"Well then," Vegeta finally said after a moment of silence, "If you refuse to leave, then I shall resume my training with you here. I hope you can handle 400 times Earth's normal gravity, woman," he added dryly.

Bulma growled in frustration, her temper threatening to boil over. "You're completely _impossible_! You're going to make yourself worse, Vegeta! Why can't you see that not everyone is out to get you? I mean, I know you had a tough past and all, but--"

The next thing Bulma knew, Vegeta was right in her face. Her words died at her lips as she felt the gravity room wall against her back and his hand at her throat. He had clearly pushed her back, but with the padding of the room, he hadn't hurt her. His hand wasn't applying any pressure to her throat, but that didn't stop the woman from fearing her life in that instant. Vegeta could snap her neck with less effort than it would take her to snap her fingers.

What frightened her most though wasn't the speed at which he shoved her against the wall, or the fact that he had a hand grasping her neck. No, it was the look in his eyes that terrified her. It was a wild, mad look that she hadn't seen him wear since they were on Namek. The blue haired woman gulped as the prince leaned in so close, their noses were almost touching.

"I can mildly tolerate the insults, and the blatant disrespect from a woman who would not be allowed in my presence on my home planet," Vegeta said, his dark eyes boring right into hers. "I can also tolerate, with enormous discipline, your human foolishness, pointless sentimentalities, and incessant interruptions in my training regimen." His hand suddenly got a firm grip on her throat. It wasn't enough to hurt her, but it was enough to make Bulma begin to tremble in fear.

"But the next time you mention my past with such blatant disregard, I will end your life, woman, your friends be damned. You live here, pampered in your riches, a life free of pain," he spat out in disgust. "You know _nothing _about what I have gone through in my life, and you _never_ will. So stop this foolishness with trying to be my friend or whatever the hell it is you think you're doing. After I help defeat the androids, I will challenge and destroy Kakarot once and for all, and then I will destroy your pathetic mudball of a planet for good. _You _will be destroyed in the process, and the universe will be better for it, you worthless human," he sneered.

Bulma wasn't quite sure what it was. Maybe it was the fear of having his hand around her throat. Maybe it was the look in his eyes. Maybe it was the way his voice slightly shook with anger. Maybe it was just the words themselves. But for some reason, and quite against her will, Bulma's vision suddenly began to blur as she turned her head away from him, her body still trembling.

After everything she had done for him, the accommodations she made for him in her _home, _the time she spent tending to him and making sure he recovered from the explosion the day before, defending him against her boyfriend… this was what she got in return? At the thought of Yamcha, his voice suddenly rang out in her head.

_Fine, but don't you come crying to me when he throws it all back in your face…_

Yes. She should have listened.

Vegeta saw Bulma's eyes glisten with tears as she looked away. A bewildered expression came over his face at the sight. This was not the reaction he had been expecting. He had fully been expecting her to battle him more, to try to wear him down further. After all, that had been all she had done since his arrival to Earth after searching the universe for Kakarot: battle him, battle him, and battle him some more. He wasn't sure why this time was so different. It wasn't as though he had actually physically hurt her.

The Saiyan Prince waited for her tears to fall, but they didn't. She refused to let them.

He grunted and let her go.

There was silence for a few moments, before Bulma softly broke it.

"I only mentioned your past because you had a nightmare earlier," Bulma said, her voice thick. She reached a hand up to her own throat, still looking away from him but feeling his stare on her. He scowled at her words, deep down not surprised, but he said nothing. "You were mentioning Frieza." Bulma missed Vegeta flinching at the name. "I just… I was just trying to help you since you're alone here on Earth. And you obviously don't seem to care about yourself, so I just figured someone should care for you, since everyone is counting on you to help with the androids. We need your help… I'm sorry," she told him, the tears still shining in her eyes. She kept them at bay though, not wanting him to think less of her than he already did. "I was stupid to come here. I'll leave you alone now."

If she had looked at Vegeta at that moment, she would have seen that the bewildered look was back on his face as he rapidly processed her words.

There was no hidden agenda. There was no secret motive. The blue haired woman had every reason to hate him and wish him dead. Instead, against the odds, she actually and genuinely gave a damn about him.

No one else in the entire universe could say the same thing. And now he had ruined it.

_As usual._

A strange feeling very reminiscent of guilt suddenly reared its ugly head deep down inside of him. But it was a dull feeling, a stupid and weak feeling. He forced it away, part of him grateful that she was walking away. He was a loner anyways, and she was a human woman who had nothing to offer him. The only true companion and friend he had ever had was Nappa, and Nappa had died at his hands. Vegeta instinctively looked down at the memory. It was perhaps the only kill in his entire life that he actually regretted from time to time.

No matter though. She was giving him what he wanted. He turned around, away from her, and walked over to the control panel.

"Good," he finally said in a detached voice, reaching out and resting his fingers on the keys to initiate the gravity simulation. He did not press them though. "Go, and don't come back, woman."

Bulma felt a tear fall now that he had his back to her, but she wiped it away angrily. He was right, she was indeed a stupid woman. Feeling absolutely foolish, she walked right out of the gravity room. Quickly, she headed inside house, going straight towards the nearest bathroom. She was going to have to very quickly redo her makeup so Yamcha wouldn't suspect anything.

Flicking on the lights to the bathroom, Bulma took a deep, steadying, and calming breath. She opened her eyes and looked at her reflection for a minute. Finally, she began to fix her eyeliner.

Vegeta waited until he heard the door close before initiating the gravity simulation again. He wasted no time in doing his usual increments, instead going straight to 400 times Earth's normal gravity. The tremendous force immediately brought him down to his knees, and he felt like the air had been knocked right out of him.

Slowly, painfully, he resumed his push-up position and began again.

No more guilt.

No more bad memories.

No more annoying, unnatural mental images of the woman being almost brought to tears.

Only blissful, welcoming pain…

Meanwhile, in the spacious living room at Capsule Corporation, Yamcha was getting anxious. He didn't know what was taking Bulma so long. He pulled out his cell phone and checked the time. It was already getting late for dinner. He sighed deeply.

"Hey you, I'm sorry that took a little longer than I thought it would."

Yamcha turned to see Bulma walking over to him. She gave him a bright smile and he immediately returned her smile. She had touched up her makeup and changed into a nice dark blue blouse with black jeans.

"I was thinking that you forgot about me," Yamcha teased lightly.

"Never," Bulma told him as she finally reached him. She gave him a relieved smile.

"So you ready to go?" he asked, the happiness in his eyes more than evident. "I was thinking since it's getting kinda late for dinner, maybe we could just go get some drinks instead. We could go to the bar-grill place that you like, so if you get hungry, you can order some--"

He didn't get to finish what he was saying when he felt her lips suddenly on his. Though caught by surprise, it took him no time to respond to her kiss. He wrapped an arm around her waist as they both deepened their kiss.

He let out a deep breath when she finally pulled away. "Wow," he said, a lazy smile coming over his face. Bulma smiled too, her blue eyes practically dancing. This man loved her. Yes, this was right.

"I love you," she told him, meaning it completely.

"I love you too babe."

"Good," she said with a smirk. "Now let's go get some drinks. I'm totally going to order one of their new burgers there though. Chi-Chi told me they were amazing!" She grabbed his hand and hauled him alongside of her as he laughed. "Hurry up, it's already getting late!"

"Alright, alright," he snickered. "We wouldn't be so late if you didn't have to check on Mr. High and Mighty up there."

"I'll drive," Bulma said, ignoring what her boyfriend had just said as she let go of his hand. She ignored the hurt that she had felt with the Saiyan Prince only moments ago. Yamcha's eyebrows furrowed a bit in confusion, but he just followed Bulma silently.

It was a stupid feeling. If he wanted to be alone so badly, then so be it. She had made a valiant attempt, and now she was washing her hands of him. From now on, she would arrange for her father to deal with his gravity room requests and for her mother to deal with his food requests. She had work, she had friends, she had Yamcha. She had a life.

A life that didn't include Vegeta.


	6. Amends

Vegeta just couldn't shake it.

The sight of tears simmering in her brilliant blue eyes simply would _not_ leave him.

A month had passed since the gravity room incident, and the woman had stayed true to her word. The prince had not seen her even in passing. She would either be out shopping or with her weakling mate whenever he was done training for the day, and she preoccupied herself in her lab whenever he came in to eat.

Her avoidance bothered him, and that simple fact annoyed the living hell out of him because it _shouldn't _have bothered him. After all, _he _had been the one to demand that she leave him in peace. She had finally obliged. She had given him what he craved the most: peace and quiet. He should have been relieved, elated even. And maybe he would have been, if it weren't for those tears…

_Those blasted tears. _

The image was haunting him; it was just so…so _unnatural_…

Tears did not suit the woman at all. Vegeta much preferred the fire in her eyes when she argued with him. Her eyes were so alive when she was angry. A small part of him enjoyed getting a rise out of her just to see her eyes spark and come to life. But those tears did the opposite; they extinguished the fire and made her eyes dull and empty, two lifeless and still oceans instead of the raging fire they were supposed to be.

But even worse than the image of her eyes filling with tears, was the knowledge that _he _was responsible for the change in the first place.

And no matter how hard he trained, no matter how much he tried to enjoy his newfound peace and quiet, no matter how hard he tried to ignore what had happened, knowing that he had inflicted pain upon the only person in existence who had shown him an ounce of genuine kindness made the Saiyan Prince feel more guilty than he would ever care to admit.

And every day, it was getting harder and harder to suppress the feeling.

_What the hell is wrong with me? _Vegeta thought, growling impatiently as he marched upstairs to the guest room that was his bedroom. He was an elite warrior, the Prince of all Saiyans, the fiercest fighter in the entire universe. He had brought countless adversaries in the universe to tears before, many times, before killing them mercilessly. Why in the world was this woman any different?

_Because she actually cared_, a voice deep down answered.

Vegeta scowled deeply, silently entering his bedroom. It didn't matter anymore. The woman wanted nothing to do with him now. And he was not about to go running to her like a fool, begging for forgiveness. He had never, _ever_ asked a single soul in his entire life for forgiveness, and he was _not _about to start now.

He snorted quietly as he sat down on the edge of his bed. _Good riddance, _he thought bitterly to himself as he removed his Capsule Corp. gym shoes. The woman had somehow made him weak, made him able to feel stupid and trivial emotions. It was better like this, being away from her, he reasoned as he laid down on top of the covers. Folding his arms behind his head, the prince relaxed his body and stared up at the ceiling of his room. With more effort than it should have taken him, he rid himself of all thoughts of the blue haired heiress. After a few minutes, his training for the day started to catch up to him. He closed his eyes, letting the sleep finally come.

* * *

"You _cannot _be serious!" Bulma shouted indignantly, making her boyfriend cringe.

"Aw, come on, babe," Yamcha pleaded, giving her a wary glance before resuming his packing. "I was invited and I already said yes. I can't back out now, you know that would make me look bad. Besides, it'll be fun."

"Fun for _you_," she growled, folding her arms angrily in front of her as she watched him pack his cleats into his duffel bag. "We were _supposed _to go out dancing tonight! And don't you remember, I made us reservations at the new Italian place downtown for tomorrow night!"

"I know babe, and I'm sorry," he said as he looked at her apologetically, but he was not going to calm that rabid temper down that easily.

"How DARE you blow me off, you jerk!" Bulma roared, making Yamcha cringe again. "You should be blowing your stupid friends off instead of your beautiful and genius girlfriend!"

"But I agreed to this weeks ago," Yamcha reasoned, though it sounded more like whining. "It's only for a few days, babe. I need to get away from my training for a while anyways and take a break. And I've been hanging out with you so much lately that I haven't seen my guy friends in a while."

Her upper lip curled up in disgust, but she remained silent as she watched him pack. She knew he was right; she had been more than eager to monopolize any second of time he had that he wasn't devoting to preparing for the androids. It made it so easy to just be with Yamcha as much as she could… it made it so easy to continue to ignore the Saiyan housed in the same compound.

But now with Yamcha leaving, it was going to be much more difficult.

"Fine then," Bulma finally told him as she fumed to herself. Yes, she knew she was being unreasonable, but she didn't care at that moment. "Go off with your stupid friends to go to your stupid baseball tournament. See if I care. Hell, maybe I'll have a new boyfriend by the time you get back from your _fun,_" she shot at him, before spinning around on her heel and marching off.

"Bulma," Yamcha sighed, but she had already slammed the door shut behind her. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, before continuing his packing.

"Oh, honey," Bunny said as she watched Bulma stalk down the hallway towards her, "I was just coming to find you."

"What is it, Mom?" Bulma demanded impatiently.

"I was doing a load of laundry for Vegeta," her mother started in a cheery voice, not noticing her daughter's eyes narrowing angrily at his name, "And it occurred to me that the only clothes that poor boy owns are his socks and shorts to train with, and his Saiyan armor. Dear, won't you pick him up some nice clothes the next time you go shopping? I do think he would like that."

Bulma growled, "Oh _puh-leeze_! I'm not going to waste a second of my time when I go shopping buying that jerk clothes that he's not even going to wear!"

"Oh… _oh_, I see," her mother said as she giggled. "You just enjoy that handsome boy walking around wearing only those tight exercise shorts, don't you? I know I would if I wasn't a married woman!" A blush of embarrassment furiously reddened Bulma's cheeks, and without any words to say, she just let out an exasperated sigh of frustration. Her mother just giggled, "Don't worry dear. I won't tell Yamcha!"

"ARGH!" Bulma howled. She turned around and marched down the opposite hallway. "The only person I like right now in this compound is my father! DAD!"

Bulma wandered down to her father's laboratory, but didn't see him there. She sighed and left, walking around as she searched for her father. She wanted to get back to work, but she couldn't do it until he checked over a part of her work that she wasn't fully familiar with. She growled to herself as she ran into Yamcha in the living room. He gave her a sheepish look, his duffel bag over his shoulder and a baseball cap on his head.

"Oh, you haven't left yet," she told him sarcastically. "I thought you'd be long gone by now."

He sighed. "Bulma, come on…"

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," she told him evenly, turning and walking away from him as she headed towards the kitchen.

"I'll call you?" Yamcha asked hopefully. He received no reply and sighed again as he left the compound.

Bulma went to get a glass of water to cool down when she caught a glimpse of something odd outside of the kitchen window. She peered out and saw her father outside by the gravity chamber that Vegeta used. The old man had propped a ladder up against the chamber and was struggling to climb it. Bulma sighed at the sight, the daddy's girl inside of her bubbling up to the surface as she headed outside.

"Dad, what are you doing?" she asked as she approached. Her father was only up about three steps on the ladder as he turned to look at her, his glasses hanging low on his nose.

"I'm making repairs to the gravity room, Bulma," he said cheerfully in that drawl of his, before chuckling. "But unfortunately, I'm not the young man I once was. This ladder is much taller than I remember…"

"Dad," Bulma sighed, her tone mildly scolding. "You know you shouldn't be climbing on ladders with your bad back."

"Oh I know, dear," Dr. Briefs replied, his cat perched on his shoulder. "But there's a hole on top of the chamber and with the forces Vegeta likes to train with, I can't take the risk. We don't want another accident happening. He barely survived the first one."

_That makes two of us, _Bulma thought silently to herself as she scowled. "Dad, seriously. Come down from there before you fall and break a hip."

Her father chuckled. "Sorry dear, but if I don't do this, who will? You told me you didn't want to help him anymore."

Bulma bit her bottom lip, internally debating. But as she saw her father very slowly try to climb up to the fourth step, she sighed again, loudly and dramatically.

"Fine, I'll take care of it," she finally said. "Just come down before you fall off there. I need your help anyways to look over the current implementation for my new algorithm. I'm almost there but I can't debug the last part. I figure a fresh set of eyes might help."

"Of course, but I have to start getting ready now for an important meeting at the lab on the east side of the city. I'll do it as soon as I come home, dear," her father promised as he slowly reached the soft grass of their luxurious backyard. "I asked Vegeta not to train with the gravity simulation fully engaged until I make this repair, so if you could please finish this as soon as you can, that'd be great."

"Oh, whatever, he can wait," Bulma said as she rolled her eyes. Her father just gave a subtle smile.

"All right dear, I'll see you later for dinner."

"Okay, see you later."

Bulma watched her father leave before looking up to where her father was climbing to. Yes, even from here, she could see a visible hole on the top of the gravity room. Bulma saw that her father had left a toolbox on the fifth step in the ladder. She decided she might as well get this over with quickly, lest _his royal highness _step out of the gravity room and find her there. The last thing she wanted to do was interact with the hot-tempered prince.

But if she was pressed to do so, she would show him that she was no withering little flower either…

Meanwhile, Vegeta was sitting in the gravity room. There was no gravity simulation engaged. Although he had been extremely annoyed when the scientist had explained the structural failure that could occur if he trained as usual, it was clear that the old man was a true scientific genius. Vegeta had grumbled for a while before ordering him to make the repairs as soon as possible and let him know when it was done.

Now he found himself sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back against the control panel, arms folded over his chest. He had run out of clean exercise shorts and thus was dressed in his Saiyan armor while the blue haired woman's mother washed his shorts and his socks. His armor was clean, thanks to the odd blonde woman, but it had the signs of fierce battle all over it. There was a hole in the armor over his stomach where the bald cueball had blasted him on Namek; there was a hole in the back where the blast had exited him. There was also a smaller hole over his heart, where he had been pierced by Frieza. There were a myriad of cracks and scratches everywhere on it.

The marks of a true warrior. He wore his armor with pride.

At the moment though, he wasn't thinking about his armor or the battles he had waged while wearing it. He had his eyes closed and his head leaned back against the panel, lightly dozing while the old man made his so-called necessary repairs. The normal sound-proofing was effectively negated by the hole at the top of the capsule, and so he immediately heard when the blue haired woman approached her father. He didn't open his eyes at the sound, but he did snort when he heard that Bulma hadn't wanted to help him anymore, enlisting her father to deal with him instead.

_Hmph. Figures._

Vegeta tuned them out, with an annoying amount of effort, and let his body relax. He hadn't even realized that his body had involuntarily tensed at the sound of that blasted woman's voice. The Saiyan Prince took a deep, slow breath. And then another. And another. Soon, he was dozing again, his body easily succumbing to the rest it craved.

His head was slowly falling forward, his crossed arms slowly growing limp, when he was suddenly awoken by a scream.

In a fraction of a second, the Saiyan was on his feet, his sharp eyes taking in his surroundings, his body tense and ready for a fight. He instantly processed where he was, and then he knew.

It was the woman who had screamed.

Bulma writhed in agony on the grass, the ladder laid out next to her as she clutched her arm in pain. Kami, what had happened? She had climbed up to the very top of the ladder and had maintained perfect balance the entire time. Then she had peered down through the hole and saw him… the next thing she knew she was falling straight for the ground while she screamed her head off. She groaned, the pain in her arm fierce; it felt like her arm was on fire.

"Oh, why me?" she asked herself pathetically. Bulma whimpered as she somehow managed to sit up. She tried to move her arm and tears immediately came to her eyes as she cried out again. Oh yeah, it was definitely hurt. She didn't know how bad though. She was an engineer and a scientist, not a medic.

"Will you stop that incessant racket, woman?" a gruff voice asked. She looked over at the source. Vegeta had walked around the gravity chamber to face her. He was staring at her, an annoyed scowl on his face, arms crossed over his chest. Furious tears stung Bulma's eyes as she clutched her injured arm and shot him a vicious glare.

"Go to hell, Vegeta!" she screamed at him. "This is all your fault, you jerk!"

He snorted. "Do not blame me if you have no sense of balance whatsoever. I did not come out here and shove the ladder down. You toppled over all on your own," he said, keeping his voice emotionless.

Guarded.

Bulma fumed, "If you didn't have to spend every goddamned minute training then I wouldn't have been rushing, you jackass!" she yelled at him, her tone venomous. "Why don't you go train or something and get the hell away from me!"

"I am not even near you, woman," he said, his lips now threatening a smirk. "I just came outside to see who was dying by all the screaming that was going on. I think the entire city heard your screams."

Bulma wanted to retort, but instead she grit her teeth as her arm flared with pain. A choked sob escaped her at the pain and frustration she was feeling. She needed to finish her work, she couldn't _afford _to be slowed down by a stupid arm injury. She looked down at her right arm which was hanging limply down her side, and finally broke down into painful sobs.

She didn't notice Vegeta until his white boots were right in front of her. Her eyes shot up at him, growing wide. Even though he was the same height she was, he looked menacingly tall when he stood over her like this. _Especially_ with that spiked hair of his.

Unwillingly, her eyes lowered a bit to the hole in his Saiyan armor that left his perfectly sculpted abs completely exposed. She let her eyes linger for a moment before forcing herself to look back up at him.

She swallowed when she saw him staring down at her, the smirk gone from his face and an unreadable expression there instead. Her body began to tremble as she wondered what the unpredictable man was going to do to her.

Her eyes grew even wider when he slowly crouched down in front of her.

"Vegeta?" she asked through choking sobs, her voice shocked from his proximity and rough from her crying. He frowned when he heard it, his eyes settling on her injured arm as he scrutinized it.

"Cease your tears, woman. Crying does not suit you," he said, his voice detached like it usually was around her as he avoided eye contact with her. Well, she most certainly hadn't been expecting _that. _She forced her tears back, trying to stifle her sobs as he grunted.

"Your right shoulder is dislocated and you have fractured your right ulna bone in your forearm," he said as his dark eyes swept over her body, still avoiding her eyes. His eyes lingered on her legs which were mostly exposed from the very short denim shorts she was wearing. With enormous discipline, he managed to keep his face expressionless. "You have other bruises as well on your legs, but they won't show for another ten or so minutes. They are beginning to form now. They are nothing though and should cause no pain at all, even to a human woman."

"What?" Bulma asked dumbly. It was like her brain had just stopped working completely. Could he seriously tell all of that just by looking at her?

"I am a warrior, woman," he said in annoyance, as if his knowledge should have been obvious. His dark eyes finally tore away from her perfect legs to meet her teary blue eyes. He scowled, "I know a good deal about injuries," he said matter-of-factly. His dark eyes then shifted to her right arm again, and he reached one gloved hand out to it. "Here, I shall pop this arm back into place-"

"You will do no such thing!" Bulma shouted, startling him as she clutched her injured arm possessively. Vegeta growled impatiently.

"Foolish woman, I have done this many times before!" he snapped, irritated.

"Well, you don't have to do it to me!" she shouted at him. "You're too strong, you could rip my arm right off!"

He smirked at that, pulling his hand back and resting both hands on his knees. "Now _there's_ a good idea. Maybe I could keep it as a souvenir to scratch my back with?"

"You wouldn't get the chance because I would take it back and beat you to death with it," she growled. His smirk grew at the burning fire in her eyes.

_Now that's more like it._

"I hadn't pegged you for a coward, woman," he said, his tone taunting. His eyes were challenging as that maddening smirk lingered on his face. Bulma's eyes narrowed furiously.

"How DARE you!" she snarled, "I am NO coward!"

"Well then, you could have fooled me."

She gave him an evil glare before struggling to stand up. He stood easily, folded his arms over his chest, and watched her.

"Why are you even here anyways? I thought I disgusted you," Bulma said bitterly as she finally got up to her feet. Just like he had said, her legs were sore and she could feel where the bruising was going to take place. But aside from that, it was only really her arm that was causing her pain and misery at the moment.

She turned to glare at the Saiyan Prince again. But as soon as she saw him, her expression changed and she completely forgot about the pain in her arm.

Vegeta was staring at the grass in front of him, his eyes the most intense that she had ever seen them. His hands were visibly turning into fists as he pondered her question.

Why _was _he there?

He should have been annoyed that her stupid accident would now have to make him postpone his training even longer, but instead he was busy trying to diagnose what injuries she had sustained from her fall. He had even offered to _help _her. Him, the Prince of all Saiyans, helping a human woman! He felt his eye twitching as the shame crept into him.

"Vegeta?"

_Why in the world does this blasted woman have to say my name that way? _He thought furiously to himself. His name was strong and widely respected in the universe. It was his father's name, his grandfather's name, going back generations and generations of royal blood. It was his home planet's name. It was fit for royalty, and yet when the blue haired demon woman said it, she made his name sound so soft… he instinctively wanted to scream at her not to say his name in that manner, but he refused.

No, this time, he would _not_ lose his control with her. Not again.

He grunted, and finally spoke, turning his head to the side as he did. "I am merely returning the favor from last month," he grumbled.

There. That was a suitable explanation that would allow him to save at least _some_ pride and dignity.

Bulma stared at him for a moment before realization dawned on her. He was offering her help because she had offered him help when he was seriously injured. Or at least, that was all he said…

Suddenly, despite her pain, a slow but brilliant smile spread over her face. Despite the menacing scowl that was on the fierce warrior's face, despite his explanation, she saw right through him. She saw his obvious discomfort, and saw what he was actually saying to her.

He could never voice an apology to her, even if he had wanted to. He had far too much pride, and was far too stubborn.

But what he could do was _show_ her he was sorry.

"Okay… you can pop it back in." A surprised look came over his face as he turned to look at her. His dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. She gave him a weary smile and a nod of encouragement.

He had shown her an apology, and now she was responding by showing him forgiveness.

"You mean you actually trust me to pop your shoulder back into place?" he asked incredulously. Bulma rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Look, Spikey, just do it before I change my mind," she told him. He scowled deeply at her remark. Vegeta wasn't as keen on his physical appearance as he was on his physical power by any means, but he loved his hair.

"Now I _am _tempted to tear your arm off, woman," he sneered as he approached her. "Do _not_ mock my gorgeous hair."

"Do it and die," she warned, though there was no malice anymore in her voice. In fact, she smirked at him. He scoffed as he walked around her, deep down begrudgingly admiring her courage. He knew she was in pain and yet she was still baiting him. She was such an enigma, this woman.

She intrigued him.

Vegeta suddenly came to a stop, standing very closely behind her. He leaned in very close to her right ear, lingering there as he picked up her scent. She smelled as beautiful as she looked, her scent rich and sweet. Much more addicting than he anticipated. He felt an urge rise up through his body as he imagined himself taking her right there, both of them in the grass, where anyone could walk in on them…

Bulma's entire being seemed to stop functioning as she felt his breath near her ear. She shuddered lightly at the sensation. He smirked a little at that and cocked his head to the side, even more intrigued.

"Do tell me how you intend to kill the Prince of all Saiyans?" he asked, his voice low, deep, and amused. "Let me guess: scream until my ears bleed, and then watch me bleed to death?"

"Well," Bulma breathed out, "That _is _an op—OWWW!" she screamed loudly, clutching her arm painfully. Vegeta had moved so fast, that she hadn't even felt him grip her arm. In a flash, he had taken it and popped it back into place before she had even finished blinking.

"Hmph. I can feel my life energy draining already," Vegeta said with a smirk as tears stung Bulma's eyes again. She bent down in agony, before shooting the prince a furious glare over her shoulder.

"You jerk, you could have given me a little warning that you were going to do that!"

He just snorted and rolled his eyes. "Woman, pain is always less when you aren't expecting it." And with that, he walked off towards the compound, heading to the kitchen. "Let me know when the repairs are done," he called out over his shoulder.

Bulma kept her tears at bay as she angrily watched him from behind while he walked away. That man was so stubborn and so arrogant, and he was such a jerk and a jackass. She looked down at her shoulder and although it hurt like hell, the pain was growing dull. Her anger also began to dull as she slowly smiled.

There was, indeed, more to the prince than met the eye. And suddenly, she rediscovered her determination to find out what that was…


	7. No Pink

If Vegeta had known in advance that it was going to be such a shitty day, he would've just stayed in bed.

He had woken up at 4:30 in the morning only to find that he could hardly move. There was pain radiating down his back and through his limbs, making even the slightest motion difficult. With extraordinary effort, he managed to move so he was sitting on the edge of his bed. Breathing heavily, he grimaced as his body strongly ached for him to lie back down. Clearly, his decision to train for 10 hours nonstop the day before (while experiencing 450 times Earth's normal gravity for the first time) had backfired. The increase from 400 to 450 hadn't hit him until he was done for the day. By the time he had walked out of his shower, he was already walking gingerly. He had thought with some rest, the pain would subside. The prince was extremely annoyed to find out that he had been mistaken.

_Pain is weakness, _he thought angrily to himself. Slowly, he got up to his feet and began his morning routine. He refused to be deterred just because his body was weak. In fact, it was all the more reason to work even harder to strengthen up his body. It took him around five minutes longer than it usually did to head downstairs and go to the gravity room, but he did and trained as usual, ignoring his pain as only he could.

The Saiyan was irritated to find the pain worsening when he took a break for breakfast. His irritation tripled when he entered the kitchen only to find no one in there making him pancakes. Ever since that enigma of a woman had introduced him to pancakes, that was all he ever ate for breakfast. The woman's mother always had fresh pancakes ready for him to devour as soon as he came in, and her absence now annoyed the hell out of him. Growling, the prince went over to the fridge, furiously throwing the door open and almost ripping the metallic door off its hinges.

Vegeta's dark eyes scanned the various contents in the fridge, but he was very unfamiliar with most of the things he found. Finally, he pulled out a carton and opened it. In it were large white ovals. He grunted and pulled one out, recognizing it as an egg. The humans cooked these things for breakfast sometimes. He eyed the stove bitterly, getting more and more pissed off that he was actually going to have to cook for himself. The proud prince reached over to one of the controls and easily turned it on, before realizing he needed something to cook the eggs in.

_Fuck this, _he thought angrily, losing his patience as he dumped all the eggs on the kitchen counter. Half of them cracked and the rest broke completely. Raising one hand, he shot a small ki blast at the counter to cook his meal. Why the hell should he have to use the stove when he could generate heat at his very fingertips?

When he saw flames engulfing the counter and quickly spreading, he got his answer.

Two minutes later, an enraged Saiyan now sporting burn marks on his arms from putting out the flames marched out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. He was tired, aching, starving, and itching to kill something (preferably someone). It was a shame that scarface weakling wasn't around. Vegeta would've enjoyed blasting him to pieces; that would have surely made him feel better. Going back into his gravity room, he resolved to stay in there until he either passed out from exhaustion or he ascended.

Three hours later, the gravity simulation stopped working.

One of his eyes twitched involuntarily as he lay facedown on the floor, panting after having collapsed from relief when the simulation stopped working. He had the side of his face resting on the floor, his entire body hurting with a vengeance. Not for the first time, he thought of quitting. What the hell was the point of this madness anyways? Why was he even bothering to fight for these miserable humans, risking his life for a planet that regarded him with such disdain? It just made no sense, and at times like these, the doubt was crippling.

_They're not worth this, _he thought bitterly, wheezing as he tried catching his breath. He slowly rolled onto his back, grimacing as he did. He was a prince of a proud race, and here he was, on the floor, breaking his back…for what?

An image of Kakarot transforming into a Super Saiyan flashed through his mind. He snarled impulsively at the image and forced himself to get up. He was going to ascend into the ranks of greatness if it was the last goddamn thing he ever did. He swore it. To himself, to his fallen race…

And especially, to his father.

He left the gravity chamber, pushing away years of hatred that were bubbling to the surface as he went to find the blue haired woman. That woman was so incompetent! Tumbling off of ladders, designing a simulator that had chunks fall off leaving holes in their wake, or randomly shut down completely.

"Stupid Earth woman," he growled as he headed downstairs towards the underground laboratories that housed the true genius that was Capsule Corporation. The prince had never been down there, save for once when the blonde woman had taken him down a discreet staircase to the old man's lab so he could demand that the gravity room be built. Now he descended the main staircase, his pain and temper both simultaneously worsening with each step he took.

The brunette secretary downstairs was humming a tune to herself, a headset on as she reclined in her seat behind her desk. She was filing her nails absentmindedly when suddenly, the large doors that housed the entrance to the underground labs were violently kicked open with a force that made the woman shriek in terror.

"Where _the_ _fuck_ is that blasted woman?" a furious voice snarled.

The secretary looked up at the enraged face of a short, flame-haired man who was clad only in tight, black spandex shorts and gym shoes. On any other day, she would have loved the view. The man had a body that would make a Greek god jealous. But the fury in his dark eyes as he shot his gaze over at her made her falter in her speech.

"Um, I-I…"

He growled impatiently and walked past her desk, heading towards the double doors underneath the large letters that read "Capsule Corporation." He eyed the security measures in place; there was a camera, a hand reader, and what looked like an eye-scanner. His momentary pause was all the woman needed to get over her shock and realize that if she let some strange man get into the laboratories, Bulma Briefs was going to give her hell before firing her.

"Sir, you can't just go in without -"

The Saiyan Prince had viciously kicked the door in before the woman could breathe out another word. Her mouth was dropped as he walked on inside. She didn't dare follow him, but as soon as she thought he was out of hearing range, she immediately picked up the phone to call her boss.

His sensitive ears picked up on the idiot woman placing a phone call, but his brain didn't bother registering the words as he took in his surroundings. Just ahead of him was a large wall of glass, and as he approached it, he noticed that it overlooked a huge laboratory. There were people in white coats scurrying about, some wearing goggles, some with huge schematics spread out on tables as they pointed to them animatedly. There were rows of tables that held a myriad of tools and equipment he didn't recognize. He crossed his arms over his bare chest and observed the scene below for some time, scowling as his sharp eyes scanned for blue hair.

Finding none, he glanced to his left and then to his right, the corridors on both sides seeming endless. Just how big was this compound anyways? He turned and slowly walked down the corridor on his right, trying his best not to show weakness in his step even though his muscles felt excruciatingly tight. He walked past smaller laboratories that had theirs doors open, but no one paid him any mind as he glanced in each one.

Vegeta growled and was about to turn back to head the other way when he noticed a door at the end of the corridor with a familiar name on it. A muscle on his face twitched and he barged in unannounced, scathing words already on his tongue. He was pissed off, and was ready to take it out on the blue haired woman when to his dismay, he realized she wasn't even there.

"Son of a Namek," he hissed angrily, looking around. It was an ordinary office, with plaques on the wall, a laptop on her desk as well as notebooks and rolled up blue schematics and paperwork. One of the walls though was made of glass and he looked in to see that the woman actually had her own small private lab. His temper momentarily subsided and his curiosity peaked as he took a closer look through the glass…

_What the hell is that thing? _the prince wondered to himself. Unlike the other labs that were brightly lit, hers was dark and there was something in the middle that was emanating a green light. Curious, he went through the door that led to the lab and walked up for a closer examination.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" a teasing voice asked from behind him.

Startled, the Saiyan immediately turned around, the blood rushing to his face in embarrassment that the blue haired Earth woman had actually managed to sneak up on him.

_How the hell did that happen? _

He cursed and instantly looked away, that deep scowl back on his face as Bulma flicked on the light to her lab.

Bulma smirked at the sight of him blushing, snickering a little. Oh yes, canceling a meeting early downtown had been more than worth it to see Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans actually look embarrassed, if only for a brief moment. She had been expecting worse when her secretary had called to inform her that an enraged man with flamed hair had barreled down the doors to the labs in search of her. Instead, she had found him looking at her newest project, a mixture of confusion and intrigue on his features. It was almost endearing. Her eyes took the opportunity to scan over his impressive physique, and her teasing smirk disappeared at the sight of his arms.

Before he even had a chance to reply, she rushed over to him, "Vegeta!"

"Woman, I didn't touch-" he started growling defensively, before feeling her hand take one of his. Instinctively, he hissed and pulled his hand away, taking a step back, not expecting the contact. "What do you think you're doing!" he demanded more than asked, staring at her indignantly.

"You're hurt! What the hell happened to your forearms?" she asked worriedly, her blue eyes going from his arms, to his eyes, and back down to his arms. He looked down and saw that his skin on his forearms was reddened and beginning to blister. He hadn't even noticed, the pain in his back shooting down his legs preoccupying him more. Scowling, he just gave an indifferent shrug and looked away again. His upper lip curled back as he snarled when the woman began circling him, inspecting the recent bruises on his body, that annoying look of concern in her eyes.

"How many times do I need to tell you, woman? I do not require your assistance when it comes to what happens to my body," he told her gruffly. He crossed his arms over his chest as if to prove his point that his arms didn't hurt (which they truthfully didn't) as she finally came back around to face him. Her blue eyes were both worried and angry at the same time.

"Are those burns?" she asked, stepping up to him again and grabbing one of his hands. She could tell the bruising on his body was from his usual brutal training, but the blistered skin on his forearms was alarming to her. Fearlessly, she pulled his arm out to inspect closer. He growled, pulling his arm back. She gave him a hard glare, "Stop being so stubborn and let me see!"

"The burns will be healed soon enough, woman!" he yelled, unnerved by her touch. He crossed his arms over his chest again and glared right back at her.

"So you're allowed to inspect me when I'm injured but I can't do the same to you?" she shot back. He flinched, before that deep scowl came over his features again. Bulma sighed and put her left hand on her hip, her right arm in a white cast. He glanced at the cast, and a look briefly flittered through his eyes accompanied with an expression she couldn't read. Before she could make any sense of it, the prince gave a snort and turned on his heel, stubbornly giving her his back.

"I told you, woman," he finally said, his tone falling back into being emotionless and detached. Bulma just stared at his back, wondering what was going through that brain of his. "I was merely repaying a debt. I have no intention of being in your debt ever again."

"Did you get burned from the bots? I can redesign-"

"Your toys cannot harm me," he interrupted.

"But your burns, we have to-"

"It's not the first time I've been burned, woman," he said, cutting her off. He hadn't quite succeeded this time at keeping his tone detached. His voice came across as bitter and resentful, and Bulma knew she had to back down from the subject. She swallowed, waiting for him to say something else. But nothing else came.

Slowly, Bulma approached him. For reasons she wasn't quite sure of, she ached to reach out to him and touch his back as his words and his tone weighed heavily on her. She knew without asking that he was referring to something from his past, and she didn't want to give it real thought, not wanting her mind to wander uninvited into that dark world. She could clearly see that more than one of the many scars on his torso was the remnant of a severe burn. That was all she needed to know, but still, that ache remained. She hesitantly raised her left hand, reaching to him, but thought better of it at the last moment.

The heiress instead decided to stand next to his right side. She snuck him a glance out of the corner of her eye, but his eyes were trained on the invention before him as he ignored her presence, indifference in his eyes as he guarded whatever he was feeling deep inside. The distance between his right arm and her left as they stood side-by-side was only around four inches, but it might as well have been an entire continent. Bulma thought for a while on how to cross that distance, how to actually talk to the brooding Saiyan Prince. Finally, she decided "_what the hell_" and just went for the obvious.

"It's a virtual reality combat training system," Bulma said, smoothly breaking the silence. He scowled when he heard her voice, but said nothing as she approached the odd contraption. "There are a lot of virtual reality simulators out there, but this one is going to be the best. I'm working on channeling neurological signals based on visual perception to simulate real physiological reactions. Everything will feel real, almost like another world. You can wage a war without having to lift an actual finger. Sharpen your mind and your reflexes." She glanced over her shoulder and gave him a quick, genuine smile. He pretended to ignore it. "It's going to help the army train their soldiers more effectively."

"I wasn't aware that there was a military here on this planet," he said, raising an eyebrow and unable to hide the growing curiosity in his eyes.

"There are many militaries here on Earth, unfortunately."

"There are multiple militaries?" he asked, his curiosity piqued now and his anger and irritation growing distant. Bulma smiled at the way his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion at the topic.

"Well sure, almost every country has some kind of military. Did-" she hesitated, before clearing her throat, "Was there only one on your home planet?" she asked, seeing him visibly tense and his usual hard scowl return. She was going to apologize for the question, thinking that she had overstepped her boundaries again, when he offered a reluctant nod.

"We were a united people. One royal family, one army, one people," he said, his eyes growing a little distant. She nodded, understanding and deep down ecstatic that Vegeta was actually opening up to her a little bit. She kept her enthusiasm at bay though, and just stayed in the moment.

"I wish Earth was united that way," she said kindly. His eyes sharpened at the words and he instinctively studied her for any sign of subtle insult. He found none, and slowly, he started to somewhat relax for the first time all day.

"I bet if your own personal army of warriors stopped saving their asses each time trouble appeared, your planet would quickly unite as one," he sneered.

Bulma was a bit taken aback by his statement, having never thought of it like that before. She was actually somewhat impressed with his insight and after a thoughtful moment, found that she agreed.

"You're probably right," she finally said. "The problem is that even if we united as one, the entire force of a combined global military still wouldn't hold a candle to you, tough guy," Bulma teased lightly.

His eyes narrowed, "I wasn't talking about myself, woman, I was talking about your idiotic friends. I don't give a damn about this planet. It's not my responsibility to defend it."

"Isn't that what you're doing, though, by fighting the androids?"

The prince snorted. "Hardly. My goal is to become a Super Saiyan and destroy Kakarot. That's all that matters to me. The androids are presenting a challenge, and it's my Saiyan nature to rise to meet this new challenge. That I am saving the Earth in the process is completely inconsequential and irrelevant. It means nothing to me."

"Whether you want to admit it or not, Vegeta, you're helping save the planet by sticking around," she told him. He just rolled his eyes in annoyance at her words, but she was undeterred. "That's why we're letting you stay here with us. You're repaying us by saving us."

One of his eyes twitched at her words, but he remained silent. Bulma decided not to press her luck, instead turning to eye her invention, a proud gleam in her eye as she regarded it. The main part almost looked like a biker's helmet, but it was suspended in midair with a pulsing green glow coming from the front. Underneath it in a circle on the floor was a dull blue light. She snuck a look over at him, and saw with pleasant surprise that the scowl was gone from his face. In its place was a genuine curiosity as he stared at it. "Do you want to try it?" she asked hesitantly, trying not to sound too eager as her blue eyes studied him as intensely as he studied her invention.

He blinked in surprise at the question and then shook his head, scoffing in disgust. "I don't have time for these ridiculous games," he growled, suddenly remembering the reason he had even come down into this part of the compound in the first place. He gave her a menacing glare, "Your lack of a brain has caused the gravity simulator to fail once again, woman," he said snidely. "I demand that you fix it immediately so I can resume my training."

Bulma wasn't about to get baited this time. Instead, she gave him a smirk that looked downright evil. "Now who's a coward?" she said in a challenging tone.

The blue haired heiress watched in delight as a series of emotions seemed to flash rapidly over the Saiyan's face: shock over her blatant challenge, indignant anger over the insinuation that he was a coward, suspicion over what her new game was, and finally, realization as a slow smirk spread over his face.

"Hn. I just don't want your precious toy to break once it has to deal with a Saiyan's neurological system, which is far more advanced than a mere human's," he said tauntingly, his eyes locked on hers as she circled around her invention.

Bulma scoffed, her blue eyes blazing. His dark eyes couldn't have looked away if he tried. "Vegeta, my virtual reality combat simulator has a better chance of breaking you than the other way around."

"Is that a fact?" he asked in a low voice, his smirk growing as he very gingerly took a step forward. Bulma noticed this and tried her best not to show her concern, also knowing that commenting on his obvious pain would ruin the shaky rapport they had going. He was trying his best not to show her his pain, so she would just ignore it… for now.

Bulma suddenly snapped her fingers and the lights were off again, though the blue light on the floor was glowing brighter now.

"Come into the light," she told him.

"Do not give me orders, woman," he growled.

"Oh, just do it," she said as she rolled her eyes.

The Saiyan Prince hesitated, his instincts telling him not to trust her – but finally, he did as she asked, his curiosity getting the best of him. What she had described was intriguing, especially since he had done something similar to entertain himself on long travels in his space pod. Not able to exercise physically, he kept his mind razor sharp by engaging in battles mentally and visualizing every minute little detail that might come up in the future.

_Analyze and strategize, _Vegeta thought idly. Those had been the words he had lived by and almost died by for his entire tenure that he had served under Frieza. Bulma stood in front of him now, the helmet contraption thing in her hands. He closed his eyes as she gently brought it down over his head.

"This better be good, woman," he snarled. She just smirked, slowly walking around him. She let her left hand trail along his shoulders, immediately feeling him tense as she went to stand behind him. Trying to make her touching as nonchalant as she possibly could, she very casually let her fingertips trail down the muscles of his bare back, before settling on his lower back.

"You'll be begging me to make you one of these when we're done," she said. He said nothing as he looked into the now dimmed green light, his entire body focused on her hand and the blatant teasing in her voice.

_She's getting back at me for teasing her when she fell, _he suddenly realized. _That demon woman!… _

He was thankful that this helmet contraption hid the huge smirk that was spreading on his face.

"All I see is green. I could look at your planet's ugly grass if I wanted to see that," he said. She could hear the subtle teasing in his voice now as she pulled away.

"Oh, pipe down," Bulma retorted, before he heard her start to walk away. He scowled deeply at the sound. "You can wait ten more seconds, your highness."

"Woman, if this is some kind of trap, I swear…"

"It's not, I'm just getting ready too," she said, much to his surprise.

"What-"

That's all he got to say before the green light disappeared and a new world presented itself to him. All of a sudden, he found himself outside in some type of desert, clad in his same clothes. His pain though had subsided completely. He looked at his hands, his eyes wide and confused. Everything felt completely real… had that bastard Kakarot transported him somewhere? Was this all some kind of trap? Was he actually passed out in the gravity room dreaming? He looked at his forearms and saw that they were completely healed. Looking down at his chest, he saw no scars at all.

Suddenly, he became aware of a very familiar sensation he hadn't felt in a long time. Looking over his shoulder hesitantly, he saw it. He stared at it for a few seconds, his eyes wide in shock.

There, whipping back and forth, was his proud tail. He gasped inaudibly.

"Impossible," he whispered.

"What do you think? Kinda cool, huh," a familiar voice asked. Vegeta spun around and saw Bulma standing maybe five feet away from him. She was wearing no cast on her arm, and instead of wearing the white coat she had walked in with, she was barefoot and wearing a snug fitting black blouse with loose blue pants. His eyes instinctively moved to her breasts, but he instantly returned them to her eyes as he snorted.

"Woman, what is this? Where the hell are we?" he demanded impatiently, hoping she hadn't noticed him looking at her body.

"It's a virtual reality combat training zone," she told him, her blue eyes shining with pride as she smiled at him. If she saw him glance at her chest, she gave no indication of it. "I designed it. You're in your true form right now. That's why you have a tail, and that's why I have no cast. This isn't about pain, it's about technique and perfecting technique. When your body is tired or you need to rest, you can still train your mind. It cuts down training time by a lot. The army is practically salivating as we speak."

He grunted, admittedly impressed though he would be damned to admit it. The entire thing felt completely real to him. "So we are still at your lab?"

"Yep, we're both standing in the lab, not moving a muscle," she said with a grin as she placed her hands on her hips.

"Why are you dressed differently while I am dressed the same?" he barked out, scowling. Bulma rolled her eyes.

"Just imagine what you want to be dressed in," she said, speaking as if it should have been obvious.

"Like that will do… anything…" Vegeta's voice trailed as he suddenly found himself clad in his Saiyan armor. There were no cracks or holes. It was new, brand new.

"Ready?" she asked, backing away from him.

"Ready for what?"

She gave him that evil smirk before announcing, "System engage. Specimen one, level one."

He looked at her, bewildered, before a massive group of warriors dressed all in black surrounded him. They had practically come out of nowhere! He snarled and tensed, his instincts kicking in as he scanned them all. He could feel the sand shifting under his white boots as he got into his fighting stance. The warriors all had swords, and all at once they charged at him while Bulma watched.

The fight was over in about three seconds.

The Saiyan Prince snorted and crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at the fallen warriors surrounding him in disgust. He instinctively secured his tail around his waist, before glancing over his shoulder at the blue haired woman. She was smirking, clearly not surprised that he had made quick work of the exercise.

"Is that all you've got, woman?" he asked, a smirk on his own face too. The warriors in black all broke up into pixels and disappeared.

She engaged level two for him. And then three. And then four. Finally, she engaged level ten which was the highest she had implemented. He attacked the programmed challengers using pure, disciplined, and exceptional technique. He hadn't even used his ki. Bulma watched as he fought, admiring his form. His motion was fluid yet relentless, graceful yet merciless.

The Saiyan Prince was actually enjoying himself. Nothing made him feel more alive than being in the midst of battle. Every hit he made, he could feel, and yet he felt no pain. Soon he found himself flaunting, his pride pushing him to mercilessly torture the programmed fighters that dared attack him. Through it all, he could feel her eyes on him, and for some reason, that knowledge made him want to show off even more.

He finished her highest level in about thirty seconds. Landing on his feet gracefully from a backflip, he snickered and looked over at her. "And here I thought you were going to challenge me, woman."

Bulma just gave him a wink. "I told you that no military on Earth would ever hold a candle to you." One of his eyes twitched and his smirk faltered with the way she was looking at him. Why was she looking at him like that? Uncomfortable, he looked away as she said, "System disengage."

The world around him pixelated and then disappeared, replaced by a dull green light. Vegeta blinked and grimaced as the pain in his body flooded back to him. The sensation actually made him take a shaky step back as he tried regaining his footing. He managed it, but he stood unsteadily as he finally reached up and pulled the contraption off of his head. The prince let out a shaky breath, before hearing giggling.

He glared at her, "What is so funny, foolish woman?" he demanded.

"Your hair just popped right back up," she laughed, holding her own virtual reality helmet in one hand. He scowled deeply.

"There are few things in the universe that can bring my hair down."

"Like what?" she asked curiously as she headed to the back of the lab to put her helmet away.

"Scissors, for one," he remarked sarcastically, before hearing her laugh again.

"What would you do if I took scissors to your hair while you slept?" she asked teasingly as she came back to approach him again. She took the helmet out of his hands, bracing herself for him threatening her life. Instead, she was surprised to hear him snicker.

"Woman, if you ever manage to bring a blade anywhere close to me while I sleep, then I would let you cut it. You would deserve it for accomplishing such a feat."

She let the helmet go over the blue light and it went back to levitating as he watched her smile. "I'll keep that in mind," she said with a smirk. She turned to look at him, "So what did you think? Impressive, huh?" she asked smugly.

"It was adequate," he said gruffly, shrugging before crossing his arms over his chest. Truth be told, he had loved it. The sensation of having his tail again was beyond words for him. For the few minutes they had been in that "virtual reality," the prince had felt complete. He honestly wouldn't have minded spending more time in the system; he paused to search for the words to convey the notion while she waited patiently. She could see that he wasn't done and she didn't want to push him. Finally, the Saiyan Prince cleared his throat and said, "You seem to have some skill after all, woman. I could use a more advanced version to complement my training regimen once the design has been complete." Bulma's chest flooded with pride at his compliment, and she smiled widely at him. He looked away, feeling uncomfortable again. "I should resume my training," he added, his tone detached again.

"Oh, right, the gravity simulator," Bulma said as she glanced at her watch. "Yeah, I have a half hour or so before I have to go back to trying to program the next level on this virtual reality sim. Then I have to work on this damn algorithm that has me stuck," she said, sighing as she walked out of the lab and back into her office. Vegeta walked behind her, painfully keeping up though he was grimacing. Good thing she was walking in front of him so she didn't see. "Then I have to fix that engine on the new hover jet I'm designing. And I have to make it to the mall before nine to pick up a new outfit-"

"You are doing nothing until you repair the gravity simulator," he growled from behind her. She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"Oh please. Even with only one good arm to use, it won't take me that long to do it," she said without looking back at him.

"It had better not, or there will be hell to pay," he threatened. "Also, you will go nowhere until you prepare me some food. Your idiot mother failed to provide me with pancakes this morning."

"My mother is not your slave," she shot back with an edge in her tone, marching faster now. "And I shouldn't be doing anything for you after the way you knocked in the doors to the labs. You broke through our security system. Do you know how long it's going to take to fix?"

"Aren't you some type of genius, woman? I don't give a damn about your stupid door. Fix it on your own time while I train!" he growled. Bulma paused when she realized that his voice was further behind her. She looked back and saw that he was five or so feet behind her down the corridor. She caught a brief grimace on his face before he immediately rid it, a stoic expression replacing it when he saw her looking at him. "What are you looking at!" he barked.

Bulma placed one hand on her hip, looking at him pointedly, "Vegeta, you can't keep-" He flashed a look at her, warning in his eyes. She sighed in exasperation, knowing the man would not back down from his intense training sessions. She was going to drop the whole thing before an idea suddenly came to her and her eyes brightened. "Hey, I know! Goku has a few Senzu beans left. I could go and get you one. You can take half now and half another time when you need it after pushing too hard in your training."

The Saiyan Prince looked completely repulsed at the suggestion, his lips twitching as he struggled to contain his anger, before finally yelling, "I do not require those ridiculous beans! Only weaklings need such things!"

"Goku had to go through a few when he was training and he only went to 100 times Earth's gravity," Bulma pleaded, trying to reason with him. He looked away as he scowled while her eyes went to his arms which were looking painful.

"That's because Kakarot is weak," he said, though it was without conviction as he reluctantly admitted to himself that the idea was appealing. The beans worked quickly and with his pain subsided, his power level would be even higher. His eyebrows furrowed as he actually contemplated it.

"I'll tell him it's for me, so my arm can heal up so it won't slow down my work," she said, and he looked back at her with genuine, unguarded surprise on his face. She gave him a knowing smile, "Then he won't know that you used it. I won't tell anyone."

_How in the hell could she…? She must be some type of mind-reading witch! _he thought to himself, one of his eyes twitching again as he searched her blue eyes. He shook his head and looked away, staring angrily at the glass wall that overlooked the large lab where he first entered. It made too much sense, and it would help him get rid of his pain so he could plow ahead with even more intense training.

But would she keep her end, was the question...

He looked back at her, distrust in his eyes, before scowling. If she told anyone, he would be humiliated.

"Woman," he finally said, uneasy and tense, "If I catch wind that anyone knows about this…"

"You can trust me, Vegeta. I promise." Her voice was so sincere and she kept her eye contact as his dark eyes studied her intensely for any sign of a lie. He found none. Bulma felt like she won the lottery when he finally gave a reluctant but conceding nod. "Thank you, I won't let you down and you're going to feel _so _much better," she told him. He just grunted in reply, giving her a wary look when she smirked. "But since I am doing all of this for you, you have to do something for me…"

_I should have known!_

He simply glared at her, seeing that challenge in her eyes again. And damn it to hell if he didn't want to rise up to meet it. "Well?" he finally growled impatiently. "Out with it, demon woman! What is it that you want?"

"You let me buy you new clothes," Bulma replied. The Saiyan Prince blinked, before looking down at himself. He had his shorts, that was enough for him. What a ridiculous and stupid request! He looked back up at her and gave her a defiant glare.

"My clothes are fine, woman," he huffed indignantly. "I have all I need."

"Oh come on!" Bulma said as she walked closer to him and took one of his hands in hers. He flinched at the contact, but this time didn't pull away. "Just some nice shirts and pants, so you aren't walking around half naked all the time? You're cute, you know, but even cute guys wear shirts sometimes," she teased, obliviously yet blatantly flirting with him now. His face turned red and he avoided eye contact with her. Bulma gave his hand an encouraging squeeze. He let the contact be for a couple of seconds before pulling his hand away.

"Then go buy the blasted things, and bring me the stupid bean," he finally grumbled. If the price to pay for being one step closer to making the ascension to the legendary Super Saiyan was wearing human clothes, he could deal with it. "But NO PINK! Understand?" he snarled.

She gave him a grin, "No pink."

He muttered under his breath as they both walked back out of the underground labs. Vegeta hardly noticed that the secretary he had met was practically frozen in fear of him as he slowly followed Bulma upstairs. The prince nearly fell down the stairs when the blue haired enigma turned around to face him on the stairs. He stopped walking up and growled, "Watch where you're going, idiot woman!"

"Is tomorrow at ten okay?" she asked him, her eyebrows furrowed. "I have a meeting at three with my dad." He looked at her in confusion.

"What are you babbling about now?" he demanded angrily.

"Oh, well, I need you to come with me so I can make sure that everything fits," she told him. She tried not to laugh when he visibly paled as her suggestion sank in.

"I AM NOT GOING WITH YOU, WOMAN!" Vegeta finally roared. "You will go and buy the stupid clothes and bring them back to me!"

"Look, buddy," she told him angrily, leaning down over him. She seemed so damn tall when she was higher up on the stairs like this. He scowled at her, his eye twitching again and a sweatdrop forming on his temple at the look in her eyes. "Either you come with me tomorrow so we can buy you some nice clothes, or I will be forced to use the tape measure on you as soon as we get upstairs."

He paled even more, the thought of her touching his bare skin… well, he didn't quite trust himself completely with that. "Fine!" he finally snarled. "I will accompany you to make sure that you don't try to dress me like a flower again!"

She gave him a triumphant smirk. "Good, that's more like it," she said smugly. His face blushed against his will when she turned and gave him a clear view of her bottom as she walked back up the stairs. Muttering curses to himself, he marched after her, his pain be damned.

_This woman is going to be the death of me…_


	8. Surprises

Later that night, Bulma knocked lightly on the Saiyan's bedroom door. She had looked out the window only a few moments before to take a look at the gravity chamber, and it was clear it wasn't being used anymore. She had anxiously been keeping a close eye on it, deciding to skip out on her shopping trip she had planned just to monitor the gravity simulation's settings as Vegeta trained. To her surprise, he didn't go over 300 times Earth's gravity all night.

Bulma now listened for him on the other side of the door, and could vaguely hear the shower running in his private bathroom. She shifted what she was carrying and awkwardly opened the door using her good hand, quietly cursing her cast.

_Maybe I _will _steal a piece of a Senzu bean, _she thought as she stepped into his room, flicking on the lights. She had let him choose any room he wanted in their spacious compound, and he had chosen the smallest guest room with the least amount of furniture, with an adjoining bathroom for privacy. All he had in his room was a bed, a simple desk and chair, a dresser, and a plain, small nightstand with a clock and a lamp on it. Her college dorm room had been more spacious than his room. In the corner were his armor, gloves, and boots, with his gym shoes not too far away, his shorts laying on them.

Bulma laid down what she was carrying on his bed, and was about to leave when she saw something on the desk that seemed out of place. Curious, she went over to take a look at the notebook that was lying there. It was open, with a pen tucked in the spiral. Thinking she must have forgotten it there before Vegeta took over the room as his own, she wondered why he hadn't returned it – or in his case, why he hadn't outright thrown it away.

She got her answer when she raised the notebook, her eyes widening. This wasn't her handwriting at all – no, the handwriting she was looking at was perhaps the most elegant script she had ever seen, and made hers look practically childish in comparison.

Bulma was so fascinated by her discovery, that she didn't hear the water stopping in the shower as she flipped through the notebook. There were pages filled with extremely detailed sketches of anatomy, with body parts accurately labeled, notes underneath each body part on what type of attack would cause the most damage there the fastest. She was blown away by how elegant his handwriting was, nearly floored by the analysis that went with the writing. Vegeta had made clear notes on exactly how many pounds of force it would take to both fracture and break practically every bone in the body. He even had angles sketched in for maximum impact, down to a fraction of a degree.

After those pages came pages and pages of sketched trajectories for energy waves, with calculations for amplitudes, distance, time elapsed, velocity…

And, to her amazement, not one single calculation was wrong.

Finally, on the last page, underlined a few times, was a very simple countdown.

_22 months, 14 days, 13 hours, 23 minutes left._

"This could be constituted as an invasion of privacy, you know," a deep voice said from her side.

Bulma jumped, startled, her heart racing as she turned to look at Vegeta. A deep blush rushed to her face that he caught her snooping through his things. To make matters worse, he was leaning his shoulder against the edge of the doorframe leading to the bathroom, one foot crossed over the other, naked save for a white towel tied _very loosely _around his waist. There was still water glistening in his flame-shaped hair and dripping down his perfectly sculpted body, and she found herself hardly able to think, much less respond as her eyes took in his magnificent form.

She swallowed heavily. _Kami, it should be illegal to be that good-looking…_

The Saiyan Prince smirked a downright wicked smirk at her wandering eyes, one hand on the top of his towel. "I know I'm attractive, but it's not polite to stare, woman."

"I… this… ugh!" Bulma growled, flustered and embarrassed as his smirk grew. "Whatever, you're not _that _attractive," she mumbled, rolling her eyes and taking a deep breath to compose herself. She then forced herself to make eye contact with him. His dark eyes were bright with clear amusement, before shifting down to what she held in her hand.

"I don't recall granting you permission to go through that," he said, his smirk being replaced by his usual scowl.

"Oh, yeah," she said, looking down at it now too. She had forgotten all about it. "I was just curious… I had no idea you knew so much about physics," she told him, not hiding the awe in her voice.

He gave an indifferent shrug, looking away. "I had already mastered mechanics and electromagnetism by the time I was, what you Earthlings would call, four years old. It was the duty of the queen to pass this knowledge down to the next heir to the throne."

"Four years old!" Bulma gasped in amazement. "You've got to be kidding me. That's incredible, Vegeta."

"It's tradition," Vegeta replied, his voice still indifferent. "Whereas the other Saiyans on my planet learned how to fight through brute trial and error, I was trained by the queen to know the science of the violence I inflict. Up until I was four, I was required after every training exercise to write down the entire exercise in detail. I had to give sketches of every moment, with the physics that accompanied every moment. I was not allowed to advance to the next training exercise until I did so."

"Wow," Bulma said, staring at him with newfound respect. "And the queen was your mom, right?"

"A prince is usually the son of a king and queen," he replied snidely.

"Right, I guess I deserved that," Bulma laughed. Vegeta rolled his eyes in annoyance, before walking over to the dresser in the room. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a fresh towel as Bulma looked back down at his sketches. He stretched out the towel and brought it up to his head, where he started rubbing his hair down, his back now to her, his original towel still wrapped loosely around his waist. "So do you still do this after every fight?" she asked.

He scoffed. "No. I can do it all in my head now. It's as natural and as easy as breathing air," he said arrogantly. "I just had to go back to my calculations because the gravity and atmosphere is different on Earth, and I am modifying an old attack into a new one. Physics is the same across the universe; it just has different names, so I had to learn yours to design my new technique."

"I see," Bulma said, awed by his efficiency and thoroughness. "This energy beam packs some _serious_ power…"

"It will, once I finish developing it. It will have enough power to destroy this planet a thousand times over. I should be able to harness the energy once I finally ascend," he said, his tone proud as he smirked. He lowered the towel now and started drying his chest, his back still to her. "Clearly, I won't be able to practice my attack ahead of time. The first time I use it will be in battle. I go through the physics so I know what to expect. Firing such an attack for the first time without preparation beforehand would be less than ideal, since I could destroy this whole planet if I am off by even a few degrees. I usually work it through in my head first, but you have writing utensils here," he said with a shrug.

Bulma closed the notebook and set it back on the desk, before looking over at him. She was so intrigued and so happily surprised by his raw intelligence. Granted, she knew he wasn't stupid just by hearing the way he articulated himself, but physics? She would have never, ever guessed. "So the princes did this type of analysis until they were four, and then they only focused on the physical part of fighting?" she asked curiously, wanting to know more about him.

"No. Scientific education was supposed to continue until the prince was eight years of age," he answered. "I was the first prince to stop at four years of age."

"Oh, so did you just stop when you were four because you were so smart it only took you half the time to understand physics?" she asked teasingly. He straightened and visibly tensed at her words, no longer drying himself off. He didn't answer as he folded the towel he had just used in half and draped it over the open dresser drawer so it would dry. The prince then tightened the towel around his lower body, contemplating if he should continue. He had already shared with this common human woman one of the most significant reasons why he was a far superior warrior to every Saiyan of his time.

_Well, every Saiyan... except one. _

"No," he finally said, deciding for some reason to answer her question even though he hardly considered her worthy of hearing it. His voice was completely void of any emotion as he continued, "My mother was murdered by Frieza's henchmen when I was four. My education effectively ended with her death."

"Oh," Bulma said, a wave of guilt immediately rushing through her as she felt her heart break for him. "Vegeta… I'm sor-"

The Saiyan turned his head, not looking back at her as he cut her off, "Why are you here, woman?" he asked harshly. "My torture with you was scheduled for tomorrow morning, not tonight."

"Oh… right," Bulma said, pulling a pile of things close to her on the bed. The tension was thick in the air, and she hoped she could alleviate some of it with what she had to offer. "I brought you some things. Let's see here," she said, pulling up a bottle of something. "I brought you some Tylenol, extra strength, because you looked like you could use it earlier."

"What the hell is that?" he demanded, walking over closer to the bed to take a better look, one hand keeping his towel up.

"Medicine, so your body doesn't hurt as much. It's not as powerful as a Senzu bean, but it'll do in the meantime," she told him, handing him the bottle. He scrutinized it, turning it over to look at the ingredients as she sighed. "I'm not going to poison you, it's just to help you feel a little better… wait a minute, are you actually _reading_?"

"No, I am staring at this bottle with hopes that the ghost of Nappa will appear to tell me the contents," he remarked sarcastically. "What do you _think_ I'm doing, woman?"

"When did you learn how to read in our language? And write, for that matter?"

"Nights when I cannot sleep," he said with a shrug. "Your father provided me with some materials, and I practice with them until I'm so bored that sleep comes easily, or I'm so frustrated that I need to go train. I have already mastered the fifty most spoken languages on your planet. Reading and writing are trivial things to absorb."

Bulma's jaw was dropped as she stared wide-eyed at him. She had attempted to study a few languages, but her genius and aptitude in math and science hadn't transferred over to that domain. "Fifty languages! You have got to be kidding me!"

"_Para que te voy a mentir, mujer?" _he said in perfectly fluent Spanish, annoyance ringing clear in his voice. The words flowed off his tongue with ease, and even though Bulma couldn't understand a lick of it, she couldn't help thinking how damn sexy he sounded when speaking it …

"What?" she finally asked, finding her voice.

He growled, his agitation growing with her now. His body was aching, and this woman would simply not leave him in peace. He just wanted to rest, but he couldn't even get out of his damn towel, much less go to sleep with her there. "I said, why would I lie to you? You saw the notebook. I have already mastered your language, among many others."

"I took years of French and I still can't speak it fluently," Bulma said, awed once again. The man was a damn genius! As a child he had completely mastered the basic fundamental of physics, and now out of boredom, he had absorbed fifty languages. And according to her friends, his intelligence and cunning were always completely on display whenever he fought.

"That's because you are a _human_," he said derisively, before eyeing the bottle of Tylenol in his hands in disgust. "This is useless to me," he said, scowling deeply. He then proceeded to crush the bottle in his hand as Bulma's eyes widened.

"Vegeta!" she yelled, reaching for his hand and opening up his fingers. The bottle was now nothing but a pile of dust in his hand. She growled, "Way to go buddy, that was the last bottle I had!"

Vegeta just shrugged and shook his hand, letting the dust fall to the floor. "What else do you have there?" he demanded. "Show me immediately so I can be rid of your presence already," he sneered. His hot shower had done wonders in easing the pain that had been gripping him all day long, but now his muscles were beginning to tighten again.

Bulma sighed, before looking back at the pile. "Well, I brought you a change of clothes that you can wear tomorrow."

"I refuse to wear that pink shirt again," he immediately stated.

"No, this one is white. It's an old shirt of my dad's. I also got you a pair of his jeans but it might be a little short on you."

"Fine, whatever," he said, much to her surprise. She had been expecting a fight from him, but he seemed more interested in hurrying the conversation along. Bulma eyed him carefully, and saw how his eyes were no longer bright as they had been earlier. She could see through his guarded look, could clearly see the exhaustion creeping in. She gave him a nod and picked up the rest of what she brought.

"I brought some gauze and bandages for your arms," she said, showing him. He scowled deeply and shook his head, opening his mouth to retort, but she didn't give him a chance. "Look, we all know you're a tough guy, Vegeta. You're as tough as they come, but even you will be hurting if you don't let me see those burns."

"I refuse to-"

"Come here, sit down, and let me do this, before I go and shut down the gravity room permanently," she threatened, her eyes blazing as she glared at him.

"Do you value your life?" Vegeta snarled, his eyes locked on hers.

"If you touch a hair on my head, my friends will know at once," she told him smugly.

"I'll destroy them too," he shot back angrily.

"Oh, just come and sit down here and relax," Bulma sighed, putting the gauze and bandages on her lap. She patted the spot next to her and gave him a smile. "No one is here watching the great Prince of all Saiyans get bandaged up, and tomorrow you'll have yourself a Senzu bean. It's just little old me, the stupid human woman who won't stop bothering you. Now, come here please, Your Highness."

He didn't know if it was her words, her teasing tone, or her smile. Maybe it was just that he was so damn tired, and just wanted to rest, and it was the easy way out to quickly getting there. Whatever it was, he found himself muttering curses under his breath as he slowly walked over to her. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her, one hand still keeping his towel up as he shifted so he was facing her.

He rolled his eyes and averted his gaze from her, not wanting to see her triumphant face. As soon as his towel was adjusted and he knew it wouldn't accidentally slide open, he reluctantly laid his arms down in front of him, palms up.

"Oh Vegeta," Bulma sighed as she studied his arms. She gingerly examined him, frowning, "Did you take a hot shower or a cold shower?"

"Hot."

She sighed again and shook her head. The skin was blistered, but it didn't seem to be any worse than it was when they had been in her lab. "At least it hasn't worsened," she said, reaching for lotion to spread on the burns.

He closed his eyes, the sensation mildly painful to him. "Saiyans heal quickly from injuries. Much faster than humans, anyways." Her hand felt gentle on his damaged skin.

"I could tell when you got hurt during that explosion," she said, sighing as she very gently spread lotion over his burns. He relaxed when the pain subsided to nothing, his eyes still closed. Bulma kept her eyes on what she was doing. "I wish I had remembered then that I could've gotten you a Senzu bean. I was so worried that it slipped my mind."

Vegeta opened his eyes at her words and stared at her. After how he had treated her in the gravity room after the explosion, she _still_ wished she would have helped him more? His eyes lowered to his arms as she slowly began to put gauze over his burns. She moved efficiently but slowly, only able to use the fingertips on her right hand due to her arm being in a cast. Never in his life had he felt such a gentle touch.

_She is trying not to cause me any pain… unbelievable, _he thought in sheer amazement as he felt an eye twitch involuntarily. The prince couldn't place the feeling he felt beginning to burn deep in his chest at this realization. He frowned and took a quiet, deep breath, only to find that it wasn't going away.

His dark eyes shot back up to her when he heard her chuckle.

"Fifty languages," Bulma said, shaking her head in pure awe. "I still can't believe it."

"Did you think me a mindless brute, woman?"

"No, not at all," she instantly and genuinely responded. "I know you're an intelligent fighter. I just didn't realize you had those interests. Much less, interests that involve learning more about our _pathetic little planet,_" she teased.

"Hmph," Vegeta grunted. "I already knew how to speak a good majority of the languages before I even stepped foot on Earth. They were broadcast to us over our scouters in our space pods. Reading and writing in new languages were more of a challenge. If a planet we took over had a written form of communication, I learned it. It's just habit now, I suppose," he said, scowling deeply.

"You could probably learn just about anything if your mind can absorb all of that information," she said, finishing one of his arms as she started on the other. He kept his eyes trained on her though, watching as her eyebrows furrowed together ever so slightly in concentration. Her eyes were completely focused on what she was doing. He said nothing for a few moments, just watching her.

"Fighting is what I am best at," he finally said, moving a little closer to her.

"With your knowledge of physics and anatomy, it's no wonder."

"Anything to give me an edge in battle," he said, moving a little closer again.

"That sounds like you," she said as she finished up. "Well, that should…" her words trailed off when she looked up, only to find that Vegeta was now less than six inches away from her. His dark eyes were focused on her, looking at her with such intensity that she wanted to lean back away from him, or look away altogether.

She couldn't though. Hell, she could barely breathe. "Vegeta?" she asked, and the feeling he had been trying to suppress intensified with the way she said his name.

"Why?" he finally asked, breaking the now tense silence.

"Why what?" Bulma asked in one exhaled breath, her heart suddenly racing in her chest as he moved even closer. Four inches away now.

"Why care?" he asked with no malice or impatience, nothing but curiosity in his voice as he kept his eyes on hers. He was drawn to this woman. She was so hard to figure out, and she was so different from anyone he had ever met. The closer he got, the more he could smell her sweet scent.

"Someone has to," she answered truthfully, a shiver running down her whole body as he leaned in even closer. He turned his head and leaned in close to her neck, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath.

_Holy shit, _Bulma thought to herself, desire and lust coming from out of nowhere and practically knocking the air clear out of her as she felt his breath on her skin. All sense and reason was quickly leaving her as she closed her eyes and bit her lip.

Vegeta growled low in his throat, hungrily, already smelling the desire in the air. The sound sent a chill down her spine. "You smell good, human," his voice rumbled deeply.

"So… so do you…" she responded in an unsteady voice. It was hardly a lie. He smelled fresh and clean from his shower, yet so… so _masculine_ at the same time.

"Is that a fact," he stated, his voice still low and dangerous as he raised his head, his face only two inches from hers. She made brief eye contact with him, her breathing ever so slightly labored at his proximity, before realizing something.

"Your eyes," she said, her own blue eyes studying his, watching his eyes as they dropped hungrily to her lips. "They… they're a dark brown…"

He just grunted absent-mindedly, not even hearing what she was saying now. Her smell, her smell… _her blasted smell_. That smell was so addicting, and it was clouding every shred of sanity he had in his entire being. That sweet smell mixed with the smell of her slight arousal was the most intoxicating thing the prince had ever encountered. No other woman had ever smelled like she did and that smell was drawing him in like a moth to a damn flame.

She was entranced by him. That was the only reason she could see him leaning in close, his head tilted to the side, his breath already on her lips as she closed her eyes in anticipation. Her heart was pounding, and she couldn't think of anything else except that she… she actually _wanted_ this…

He was only millimeters away when a voice came from the door.

"Bulma?"

The very familiar voice was like a bucket of ice cold water doused on her. Bulma immediately pulled back from Vegeta to look over at her boyfriend. Yamcha was standing in the door, a bewildered look on his face, dressed in his baseball uniform with a bouquet of roses in his hands.

"Yamcha!" she exclaimed, smiling nervously as she stood up to walk over to him. Vegeta shook his head and blinked as soon as she got up, before scowling deeply.

_What the fuck was I doing? That damn woman must have put a spell on me… _he growled and shook his head again, raising one hand to his forehead to feel his temperature. Was he ill? That was the only explanation he could come up with for such weakness to overcome him. It was inexcusable for him to behave in such a way.

"What are you doing here?" Bulma asked Yamcha, who was shifting an increasingly furious glare between her and the Saiyan in the towel sitting on the bed. "I thought you told me this morning that you weren't coming back until Monday?"

"I came back early to surprise you," Yamcha said bitterly. "Guess you're the one with all the surprises though."

"Yamcha, it's not like that," Bulma said, her tone pleading. "Nothing happened here-"

"Both of you, just _shut_ _up_!" Vegeta yelled from his bed. Yamcha and Bulma both turned to look at him as he glared angrily at them both. His hands were on either side of him, gripping tight fistfuls of the sheets on his bed. "Take your stupid emotional garbage out of my personal chambers at once!"

"Vegeta-" Bulma started before Yamcha cut her off.

"Listen here you Saiyan bastard," Yamcha seethed, completely enraged. "You better never get near my girl again, do you hear me, asshole?"

"Or _what_, clown?" Vegeta asked mockingly, before smirking. "It's hardly my fault that the woman knows a _real_ man when she sees one."

"Son of a-"

"STOP IT!" Bulma screamed. Vegeta and Yamcha silently stared at each other, one man's eyes almost triumphantly mocking, the other's burning with hatred as Bulma looked between them both. She sighed and looked over at Vegeta, seeing the exhaustion he was guarding was still there. "I'll see _you_ in the morning."

"Hn," the prince grunted, scowling at the reminder of the hell that awaited him. He shrugged indifferently.

_So long as I get my damn Senzu bean._

"And you," Bulma said, turning back to Yamcha and taking one of his hands in her left hand, "Let's go. _Now._"

She took him and dragged him out of Vegeta's room, closing the door behind her. The Saiyan raised a hand to his mouth and wiped it clean, as if he would catch something from having gotten so close to her. He took a deep breath, feeling ashamed of himself. She was a stupid human woman! Good thing the scarfaced weakling had arrived when he did…

After turning off the lights, Vegeta grabbed the clothes that demon woman brought him and tossed them onto the desk in his room. He then _finally_ removed the towel around his waist and laid down on his bed, pulling the sheets over himself. He sighed and closed his eyes, a scowl on his face as he made a mental note to ask the old man to install a lock for his bedroom… he could hardly finish the thought before he was already asleep.

Elsewhere on the compound, Yamcha yanked his hand away from Bulma. "I can't believe you!" he cried out indignantly. "He was practically _naked_!"

"Nothing happened, Yamcha," she insisted again, which was the truth after all.

"Yeah, because _I _just happened to be walking past his room," Yamcha shot back bitterly. Bulma cringed; she didn't want to think about what would have happened if her boyfriend wouldn't have shown up.

"Yamcha," she said, taking one of his hands again, "Babe, there is _nothing _there between me and Vegeta, okay?"

"Whatever," he scoffed. She growled at his blatant dismissal, before taking her hand away from his.

"Fine then," she shot back defensively. "_Don't _believe me. Maybe if you had _been _here in the first place, none of this would have even happened!"

"Oh, so now it's _my _fault? Oh, that is just _rich, _Bulma," he said in pure disgust. She stared at him for a moment, and though she had come close to kissing another man that wasn't her boyfriend, she wouldn't take a single second of the night with Vegeta back. In just one night, they had talked more than they had in months, going back to when they first arrived back on Earth from Namek. They were actually semi-conversing now, and she had no regrets at all to see him start to slowly open up to her.

Not a single one.

"You know what?" Bulma asked, the fight suddenly disappearing from her as she sighed deeply. "Believe what you want. I'm just trying to get to know him, and I _will _get to know him with or without your permission. I am _telling _you that nothing happened, but believe whatever the hell you want," she said indifferently, shrugging.

Yamcha blinked in surprise when he saw her turn around and walk away from him, heading to her room. He frowned, debating silently to himself…

Bulma was opening the door to her room when she felt his arm wrap around her waist. She turned to him, and Yamcha sighed, cocking his head to the side as he looked at her apologetically.

"If you say there's nothing going on, then I believe you," he told her genuinely. She gave him a smile, leaning towards him and giving him a quick kiss on the lips, before taking the bouquet of roses.

"Good," she said happily, sighing in content as she smelled the roses her boyfriend had brought her. "You should know by now that it's only you. Nothing will ever be going on between me and Vegeta, ever. At most, we'll be friends… and that's already a stretch," she laughed.

"I know... but I just don't trust him," Yamcha said, shrugging uncomfortably as he scowled.

"Trust _me _then," she told him, kissing him on the cheek before heading into her room. He leaned against the doorframe, watching her as she put his bouquet on her dresser. She looked over her shoulder at him and gave him a flirtatious smirk. "Well? Are you just going to stand there all night?"

He grinned and went in, closing the door behind him.


	9. Denial

He felt pathetic.

And if there was one thing Vegeta hated worse than weakness, it was feeling pathetic.

Yet there he stood in the privacy of his bathroom, staring at his reflection as he wore the clothes Bulma brought him the previous night, his hands gripping the edges of the bathroom sink tightly. His eyes scanned over the short-sleeved, white button down collared shirt he was wearing with deep loathing, before rising so he was glaring into his own dark eyes. The only thing Vegeta had ever worn on a regular basis was his battle uniform. His life was nothing but endless violence and pain; the strength of his armor had saved his life on more than a few occasions.

Now here he was. Prince of all Saiyans, fierce and proud warrior, _willingly _wearing human clothes and about to venture out to purchase more.

What was the universe coming to?

Vegeta turned on the water to the sink, gathering up cold water in his hands before splashing the water on his face. The prince rubbed his eyes with two fingers as he sighed. The pain in his back not only was still present, but it had gotten far worse. His back had always taken ferocious punishment at the hands of Frieza. From the first beating of thousands that he took as a child, to the very last one he received prior to his death on Namek, the tyrant had always pleasured in practically destroying his back time and time again, oftentimes succeeding. No amount of time in rejuvenation chambers could ever get rid of the occasional morning where he woke up finding it nearly impossible to move. He learned to ignore it when he was young, but it was still annoying, like a fly you couldn't quite kill but could hear buzzing in your ear. Coupled with his training he had just finished up twenty minutes ago, and the pain was worse than it had been in years.

Now not only was he dealing with very intense, very familiar back pains shooting up and down his spine, but he was actually going to go _shopping _with a human woman. The same loud, nuisance of a human woman who he almost kissed the night before in an unheard of moment of weakness. He shook his head in shame, wondering how he got himself into this predicament as he slowly left the bathroom.

Pathetic didn't even begin to cover it.

"Good morning, Vegeta!" Bulma's mother said in her usual bubbly happiness as he finally entered the kitchen. Bunny gave him a wide smile before turning back to the stove to flip a few pancakes. Vegeta scowled at the woman and didn't bother responding to her as he painfully made his way over to his usual seat, the smell of pancakes rich in the air. "Don't you look handsome today?" she said with a giggle. "Why, I bet Bulma will be fighting off women all day today when you go shopping together!"

Vegeta gingerly took a seat at the table, before giving the woman a wary look.

_This female is so absurd…_

"Here you go, dear, just how you like it," Bunny said brightly as she placed a large plate filled with pancakes in front of him. He just grunted before picking up his fork and knife and beginning to eat.

Bunny was just putting a bottle of syrup and a glass of juice in front of him when his ears picked up laughter coming from the living room. Vegeta immediately placed the laughter as Bulma's. He had heard it before, but hadn't truly _listened _to it until now. It was a warm and peaceful sound, and it unexpectedly soothed the edge off his foul mood like a gentle touch. He stopped eating momentarily just to hear it with more clarity. He then heard the scarfaced weakling laughing with her, and his mood worsened instantaneously. A muscle twitched near his eye as he wondered silently if she was going to make her mate come along with them during their trip. Because if she was, then fuck the promised Senzu bean. He was not going _anywhere_ with that fool.

Bulma entered the kitchen then, Yamcha close behind her. She was happily surprised to see Vegeta at the table wearing the clothes she brought for him, and was even more pleasantly surprised to still see the bandages on his arms. Granted they looked a little worn for wear now, but part of her had been expecting him to rip them off as soon as she was out of sight.

"Hey, Vegeta, you're looking pretty good today in those clothes," she said with a smile. He just ignored her and continued eating his breakfast quietly, his eyes on his food. He was hardly in the mood for her ridiculous chit-chat with how he was feeling. The sooner he could get the day over with, the sooner he could just go back to ignoring her completely.

"You didn't compliment _me_ this morning," Yamcha mumbled from behind her, as she took a seat next to Vegeta, who was still ignoring her presence. Yamcha sat down on the other side of Bulma, eyeing the Saiyan carefully. He still didn't trust Vegeta and he somehow doubted he ever would.

"Oh, stop being so sensitive," Bulma said as she rolled her eyes. "If you didn't look like a bum, I'd compliment you too." Yamcha just frowned and said nothing, not knowing what was wrong with his baseball gear he was wearing. After all, he was going to play ball in a couple hours. Neither of them noticed that Vegeta had cracked a small smirk after her response.

"What time will you be back, dear?" Bunny asked as she brought two plates of pancakes over for Bulma and Yamcha.

"I have to be back by 3, but I could buy myself extra time if I have to," Bulma replied. She looked at the syrup which was on the other side of Vegeta, before looking at the Saiyan next to her. "Vegeta, can you pass me the syrup?"

Bulma watched him as he mechanically reached over, grabbed the syrup, and plopped it down in front of her, all without lifting his eyes from his food. Her eyebrows furrowed together a bit as she took the syrup. He hadn't looked at her once since she walked in the kitchen. Part of her wondered if their… _moment _the night before had made things awkward now. She hadn't meant anything by it, but… what if he had? Her brain quickly ran through what happened and what almost happened.

_Of course!_ He had been the one leaning in, not her. She resolved that they were simply going to have to talk about it when they were alone so they could set the record straight. She didn't want there to be any misunderstandings or any awkwardness between them.

The blue-haired genius was so engrossed in thinking about how to bring up the subject later that she wasn't listening to a word Yamcha was saying. She was finally brought back down to reality when Vegeta's head suddenly snapped up as he shot her boyfriend an ice cold glare.

Before she could ask what was wrong, Vegeta turned his hard gaze to her. "Woman, I _absolutely_ _refuse_ to go anywhere with this weakling," he growled dangerously.

"Hey, don't talk to her like that," Yamcha snapped. "I could come along if I want to. You're not the boss of me, Vegeta."

"Wait, what?" Bulma asked, looking at Yamcha now with narrowed eyes. "You want to come with us?" she asked, more to clarify the situation than to actually invite him along.

"He will most certainly _not _be joining us," Vegeta snarled, his fiery dark eyes meeting Bulma's when she turned her gaze back to him. "If he does, then you go with him alone and you fucking leave me out of it, woman."

"I said, don't talk to her like that, asshole!" Yamcha yelled indignantly.

Vegeta suddenly stood up, his chair falling back. Yamcha stood up as well, and Bulma wasn't too far behind. The Saiyan's fists were clenched and Bulma instantly recognized the look in his eyes. It as the same look he had when he had shoved her back against the wall in the gravity room, only worse. Dark rage held back by an ounce of restraint. Yamcha saw the look as well and swallowed a little, suddenly regretting his impulsiveness.

"Oh my," Bunny said, backing up a bit with a pitcher of juice in her hand.

"You have crossed me for the last time, fool. I warned you before. Now, you will pay," Vegeta seethed through grinding teeth, his fists tight and trembling with rage.

It had been months since he had last killed, back when he was in outer space ridding the universe of the rest of Frieza's soldiers. Maybe that's what he needed now, to feel death at his fingertips again and get rid of this pathetic feeling that had been lingering in his chest all morning. Get his mind off his physical pain and his anger over how weak it made him feel. It had always worked for him in the past after receiving a beating from Frieza. His life therapy was murder and violence, and it had always been. Maybe it was time he got back to that.

Vegeta didn't even see her there until he suddenly felt her good hand on the side of his face. He blinked before narrowing his eyes as he looked at her warm blue eyes.

"Hey, it's okay," Bulma told him as she smiled. Though the logical part of her brain was telling her she was pushing her luck with the Saiyan, she knew deep down that he wouldn't hurt her. He had never made her such a promise, but somehow, she just knew. His eyes were dark with burning rage, and whereas before that had frightened her, now she just ached to soothe the fire in his eyes.

"He's not coming with us, okay? So calm down please, before you give yourself an aneurysm," she said, lowering her hand to the top button of his shirt. His eyes followed her hand with complete attention. She easily and casually undid the button with her one hand, stretching out his collar a bit. She then brought her hand up to his shoulder. She could feel his body heat through his shirt, and wondered just what his normal body temperature was.

The heiress noted with content and relief that his fists, though still clenched, were no longer trembling. She looked back up to his face, but his eyes were closed now, his eyebrows slightly scrunched up in thought. "You look really handsome in this shirt, and I think you'll look even better in a shirt that's actually your size," she told him lightly.

Bulma's scent, words, and touch all washed over Vegeta with the warmth of the sun, driving his dark, murderous impulses away. His heart which had been beating furiously just a few seconds ago, aching for the spill of blood he hadn't had in months, was calming down and bringing his rage down with it. He scowled deeply, mildly confused. Nothing in the universe had _ever_ stopped him once he had decided to kill someone, but this weak, Earth woman somehow… he opened his eyes slowly and saw the kind look in her eyes. He wasn't used to this, just wasn't used to this at all.

The prince grunted and looked away uncomfortably, his jaw set as he stared angrily at the wall. "Whatever," he mumbled. Bulma smiled a little when she saw that his eyes weren't cold anymore. They had warmed, and she could have sworn she saw just a small hint of confusion in his dark brown eyes before he looked away.

"And as for _you_," Bulma said, turning around now to look at her boyfriend, who had watched the whole thing in pure amazement and a little apprehension. That was the second time now that she had stepped right up to the Saiyan and spared him a beating at the best, his life at the worst. His gaze suddenly met a pair of angry and fierce blue eyes. "I told you already that I was going out this morning with Vegeta to buy him some clothes. I did _not_ say that you were coming with us, I did _not_ ask you to come with us, because clearly, Vegeta doesn't want you to come with us. So will you stop being a jackass and stop antagonizing him?"

Yamcha frowned, highly offended by her words and embarrassed that Bunny and Vegeta were there to hear them. "Fine," he spat out bitterly. "Hope you guys have a blast," he said sarcastically, before turning and leaving the kitchen.

"Ugh, he's impossible," Bulma said in exasperation.

"Should have let me blast him to the next dimension, woman," Vegeta's deep voice said from behind her. Something about his tone made Bulma shudder, and it wasn't out of fear. She looked at the Saiyan over her shoulder to find him staring at her with intrigue, his head slightly tilted to the side. She raised her eyebrow at him, a challenging look in her eyes.

"What? Don't tell me that little, old me was enough to stop the badass, almighty Prince of all Saiyans from blasting someone?" she said with a smirk.

He raised an eyebrow at her sheer audacity. The woman was fearless. There were warriors all around the universe who would rather remove a limb than use his title in jest like that. Yet here she was, a frail little human woman who he could kill with no effort at all, challenging him moments after he wanted to kill her boyfriend.

He slowly returned her smirk and crossed his arms over his chest. "You flatter yourself far too much, woman. After all, if your mother saw me kill in front of her, who would make me breakfast each morning? Your culinary skills absolutely pale in comparison." He did little to hide the taunting in his voice.

"Well then, I suppose you'd starve and wither away, now wouldn't you?" Bulma said as her smirk grew, before turning forward and heading out of the kitchen. "We'll leave in five, see you out in front!" she called from over her shoulder.

He grunted, and stared after her for a few moments. He then shifted his gaze over to Bunny who was handing him a glass of orange juice. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Here you go, dear," she said brightly. "You didn't get a chance to finish this before all that commotion."

His eyes dropped to the glass, and he scowled. Something about Bunny made him so uneasy. How was it possible for anyone to be so friendly all the time? Reluctantly, he took the glass, and began to drink.

"Oh, and just between us, dear. I think Bulma is attracted to you too."

Vegeta spit out the orange juice he was drinking, before looking at the blonde woman as if she had suddenly morphed into the perfect form of Frieza. "What?" he choked out, coughing as he stared wide-eyed at Bunny.

"Oh, honey. It's clear that you're attracted to Bulma," Bunny said as she giggled. "Don't worry, I am sure eventually she'll realize she's attracted to you too. Who wouldn't be? You're such a handsome young man, a girl would be crazy not to notice you!"

Vegeta just stared at her as if she was speaking a completely different language, one of his eyes beginning to twitch. Finally, he found his voice and growled, "Don't be foolish. I would never lower my standards to a human woman."

Bunny just giggled again, raising one hand to her mouth. "Oh, I see. Denial isn't just a river in Egypt!"

_Egypt? What in the…? What an absurd woman! _

Vegeta shot her an irritated look, before slowly heading out of the kitchen. The only things he was attracted to were battle and strength. The blonde woman had clearly lost her mind if she thought that anything remotely close to what happened the night before would _ever _happen again.

When Bulma stepped outside, she found him leaning against her favorite hover jet. His arms were crossed, as were his ankles. He was wearing an impatient scowl as he stared off to the side. Bulma sighed. Didn't he ever smile? She was more than willing to pay money to see his face light up with happiness. She bet he had a fantastic smile. Maybe one day, she'd get to see it.

"Finally," he sneered when she approached him. She rolled her eyes at his tone. "You said five minutes, and you are two minutes late."

"Oh well _excuse me_, your majesty. Sorry I had to use the bathroom," she remarked sarcastically as she walked around to the driver's side. She was half-expecting him to protest at taking the hover jet, since he could no doubt fly faster. She was a little surprised though when he just grunted and opened the door once she unlocked it.

Vegeta sat down in the passenger seat and crossed his arms as Bulma buckled up. She looked at him as he leaned his head back against the headrest. Something about his appearance made her stop. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and found her staring at him, studying him.

"What?" He meant for his tone to be more scathing, but it instead sounded tired. Bulma's eyebrows scrunched together, her eyes analyzing.

"Are you okay?" she asked, slightly concerned at the exhaustion she was seeing in his face. He snorted and closed his eyes.

"Of course I am, foolish woman," he replied, scowling in annoyance. "I am a warrior."

Bulma just sighed and shook her head, before starting up the hover jet and feeling it levitate. Minutes later, they were flying and heading over to her favorite mall. They flew in silence for a while before she looked over at him again hesitantly.

"So," she said, breaking their comfortable silence. "About last night…"

"There is nothing to say," he immediately said, not opening his eyes. "It was a mistake that will not be repeated."

"Oh, well, all right then," Bulma said, sighing. She didn't know why, but she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. She looked over at him again, and he growled in annoyance.

"Stop doing that."

"Stop doing what?"

"Stop looking at me."

"How did you know I was looking at you?" Bulma asked, genuinely surprised.

"I can feel you looking at me, woman."

"Well, it's just, you look so tired," she told him, deciding to just be honest. It was as if the exhaustion she caught in his eyes yesterday had worsened exponentially. She was surprised no one else seemed to notice. "Didn't you get any sleep last night? Is the bed not soft or firm enough or something?"

He snorted. "I slept for an hour and then spent the rest of the night training. I only paused to shower and have breakfast."

"What?!" she exclaimed, looking at him with critical eyes. "You need to sleep more than an hour! Geez. No wonder you look like hell."

"Hn. Like you should talk, woman," he shot back, scowling, his eyes still closed. "You always look ridiculous with that hair of yours."

Bulma gasped loudly. "And just _what _is wrong with my hair?!" she demanded.

"It looks like a deranged nest straight from the bowels of hell," he said snidely. "I've been across the entire universe and it's one of the most ridiculous hair styles I have ever seen. And oh, I've seen ridiculous, let me tell you."

"Well excuse me, _Mister My-hair-stays-upright-in-400-times-Earth's-gravity_," she shot back, huffing indignantly. He snickered and came dangerously close to smiling at her remark, but she didn't notice.

"In any case, how am I supposed to get sleep, listening to you and your mate fucking at all hours of the night?"

Bulma squealed and lost control of the hover jet for a moment and it nearly took a nose dive. Vegeta opened his eyes at this, one hand instantly going in front of him to protect himself. His dark eyes instantly shot over to her impatiently. "Woman, wake the hell up!"

"YOU LISTENED TO US?!" Bulma shouted, completely mortified at the idea that someone was eavesdropping on her and her boyfriend during their passionate lovemaking the night before. "What, do you have some kind of fetish for listening to people having sex or something?!"

He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest again. "I have ears, and they let me hear sounds, you know. My ears are sensitive. What can I say?" he said as his smirk grew. If Bulma's face could be any redder, she could've easily been mistaken for a tomato. Vegeta just couldn't resist and continued, "He is hardly adequate."

Bulma shot him a furious glare. "_For your information, _Yamcha is a fantastic lover."

"Hmph. You must have low standards then."

"What do you know anyways?" Bulma challenged, indignant that he was sitting in her hover jet criticizing her sex life. Of all things she thought they would talk about…

"My talents are not limited to fighting, woman," he said in a low, almost predatory voice. She suddenly found it hard to breathe, before looking at him out of the corner of her eye. He had his eyes closed again, but he had a satisfied smirk on his face. Bulma exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding before looking away.

She didn't doubt his words, not at all.

Though she did make a mental note to soundproof his room the next time he was training to avoid future humiliation.

After she mumbled a half-hearted _"whatever"_, they fell into silence again for a while. Fifteen minutes later, they were about halfway to the mall, and Bulma was satisfied with the time she was making. She looked over at Vegeta to tell him they were halfway there, and was surprised to see that he had actually fallen asleep. The muscles on his face were relaxed and he was breathing deeply and steadily. His head was leaned forward a little, his arms now just loosely crossed over his chest.

_He must really be exhausted to fall asleep here like this.  
_

Bulma reached over to the controls and pressed a button that began to recline his seat. The prince instantly opened his eyes with a start, blinking a few times as he reminded himself where he was.

"It's okay," she told him. He looked over at her with narrowed eyes that betrayed a deep exhaustion and something else she couldn't place. She smiled at him. "Why don't you just lay back and take a nap, and I'll wake you up when we get there? I owe you that much for keeping you up," she said sheepishly.

He said nothing, contemplating as he silently stared at her, instinctively questioning her motives.

She caught his distrustful look. "Vegeta, there is nothing I can do to you to hurt you. Seriously, just rest. You'll feel better."

The prince grunted, figuring that she was right. Reluctantly he leaned back against the reclined seat, which Bulma had lowered all the way. His back instantly relaxed and he closed his eyes, sighing in relief. The seat was comfortable enough and with the soft rumble of the hover jet, it was actually the most comfortable he had been on the planet yet. It didn't even take him a minute to fall asleep again.

Bulma was having second thoughts five minutes later about what they were doing. No doubt, she still wanted to buy him clothes. She wanted him to have his own things, and being the wealthiest and most intelligent woman in the world, she could easily afford to give him such things. He was risking his life for her planet, whether he intended to or not, and for that she wanted to give him something back.

She was debating, though, if he wouldn't benefit more from them taking a detour instead.

The rhythm of his breathing was interrupted by a pained groan. She looked over at him, and he was wincing. As if feeling her eyes on him, his face relaxed when she looked at him and he resumed his deep, rhythmic breathing. Bulma sighed deeply, now understanding his short fuse that morning at breakfast. He was clearly still in pain and trying to not show it.

The blue haired heiress changed the coordinates, and the hover jet made a ninety degree turn as they took a detour.

* * *

The door opened, and she was met with a huge and friendly grin that she knew very well.

"Bulma! Hey!"

Bulma smiled as her old friend swept her up in his arms and gave her a hug. Bulma laughed and hugged him back.

"Nice to see you too, Goku," she said good-naturedly.

"What happened to your arm?" he asked in surprise, noticing her cast when he pulled away.

"Fell off a ladder, I was careless," she said with a shrug. "No big deal."

"Well I hope it gets better soon. Hey, you brought Vegeta, huh?" Goku asked, looking over his friend at her hover jet. He couldn't see the other Saiyan, but he could feel his energy. Vegeta's energy was unmistakable and recognizable from miles away. "Is he coming in?"

Bulma looked over her shoulder at her hover jet which she had left running on idle. Vegeta hadn't stirred when she got out, and she hadn't had the heart to wake him from how tired he looked. He must have been getting very little sleep for him to fall asleep so soundly, so quickly.

She looked back at Goku. "He's resting right now. You know how hard he pushes with his training," she said as she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, he's something, huh?" Goku said, smiling knowingly, a secret in his eyes. Bulma looked at him suspiciously, sensing that he was hiding something from her.

"What?"

"Oh nothing," Goku said nonchalantly, his smile growing. He stepped aside, welcoming her in. "Come on in. Chi-Chi is upstairs if you wanted to talk to her."

"What, I can't come talk to _you_?" Bulma asked, pretending to be offended. "You go all Super Saiyan and you forget about me, huh? I see how it is."

Goku just laughed. "No, it's just that I'm training too. Gohan and Piccolo are out back sparring. I just came in to get some food."

"Oh, well _there's _a surprise," she laughed. "Anyways, I actually came to see you."

"Oh yeah? What's going on?" the Saiyan asked in his usual friendly tone, going and sitting down on the sofa in his small living room. Bulma walked over with him but stayed standing.

"Well, I wanted to see if you by chance had any extra Senzu beans? I was wondering if I could have one to get rid of this." She gestured to her cast. "It's kind of slowing down my work."

"Oh, sure," he said, shifting on the sofa as he reached into his pocket. "Hmm, let's see here." Bulma walked over and saw that her friend had removed a small brown pouch from his pocket. Goku opened the little pouch and poured the contents out into his large hand. He counted how many beans he had.

"I just need one, Goku," Bulma told him. "I know you guys need them for more important things."

"Aw we're all right. Hmm. Well, I have six here. You can have two."

"What? No, Goku, don't be ridiculous. I don't need two for my arm. One is fine, really."

"Oh I'm sure you'll only need half of one to get your arm back into good shape. But… I'm sure you can put the extra bean and a half to good use," Goku said as they made eye contact. She saw the knowing look in his gentle eyes, saw the words he wasn't saying, and she smiled thankfully.

"Thanks, Goku," she told him genuinely as she took the beans, as Chi-Chi came down the stairs.

"Bulma!" she said, smiling at the sight of her friend. "When did you get here?"

"Just a few minutes ago. How are you doing, Chi?"…

Ten minutes later, Vegeta scowled before slowly opening his eyes. He looked around, trying to remember where he was. Sometimes it was hard for him to remember that he was still on the same planet. He was always going planet to planet when he was working for Frieza, and after a while they had all started to blur together. It only took him a moment to remember that he was on Earth.

_Where the hell did that blasted woman take me? _he thought angrily as he slowly sat up.

He got his answer a fraction of a second later when he sensed three very familiar energy levels.

A minute later, Vegeta was standing behind the Son house, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest. He watched Gohan and Piccolo spar with each other about fifty feet up in the air, both moving lightning fast. He studied their moves with concentrated scrutiny, making mental notes. They paused momentarily to look over at him, feeling his intense gaze. He scowled when Gohan gave him a timid wave.

_Stupid kid. If he wouldn't have taken my dragon ball, I would be immortal right now… little shit._

Of course, he wouldn't have liked it very much if Frieza had simply continued torturing him on Namek while he endured a beating with no end in sight. Sometimes, death was a mercy. If he could gather the dragon balls now, he would wish to become a Super Saiyan. Power and inevitable death was more appealing than weakness and endless life.

_Still. Doesn't change the principle of the whole thing, _he thought to himself as he glared up at Gohan. The boy turned away from him and continued sparring with his mentor.

He turned his head when he heard the backdoor open and his rival come out.

"Kakarot," the prince said, his tone bitter.

Goku turned to look at him, smiling as he adjusted a wrist band. "Heya, Vegeta. How's the training coming along?"

"Never mind that," Vegeta snarled. "We have something we must discuss."

"Oh, okay," Goku said, walking over to the scowling Saiyan. Vegeta held back the bile of hatred in his throat for this man. Oh, if he had the power to do so, he would crush the other full-blooded Saiyan until he gasped his last breath.

The truth was though, deep down in the depths of his heart, he had a deep respect for Goku – though he would rather have Frieza kill him again and again for the rest of eternity before he _ever _admitted it. Hell, he had difficulty admitting it to himself. In any case, this conversation was one he had wanted for a while now. The woman had brought him here no doubt to collect the Senzu bean, but he had his own agenda for not flying off as soon as he realized where he was.

And he was about to make good on it.

"We must converse away from here," Vegeta said, looking up at Piccolo with accusing eyes as he continued sparring with Gohan. "Those blasted Nameks can hear every flicker of every flame in hell."

Seventy feet in the air, Piccolo smirked.

"Okay, I'll take us somewhere else," Goku said. Vegeta just grunted, flinching when Goku put a hand on his shoulder. Goku then put two fingers up to his forehead, and then they were gone.

* * *

"So what did you want to talk about, Vegeta?"

"I have wanted to know this ever since I was brought back to life. How, Kakarot? You must tell me how you did it."

"How I did what?"

"Idiot. How you became a Super Saiyan!"

"Oh! Right, right. Gosh, Vegeta. You've been wanting to know this whole time?"

"Of course I have! Fool. I searched the whole fucking universe for you when I found out that you were alive, so I could find out your secret."

"You did?"

"Yes. I finally came back here to Earth, thinking that you might have returned."

"Wow, you really want to know, huh?"

"Of course I do! Now, are you going to tell me or not?!"

"Well… it's hard to describe."

"I'm sure you have at least one brain cell floating somewhere in your skull. Use it."

"I guess the best way I can put it, is that it came in response to a need. After you died, I thought I had defeated Frieza. But then he came back and severely hurt Piccolo. And he killed Krillin…"

There was a brief pause.

"I knew that if I didn't stop him, he would destroy everyone. Me… my son. It just happened, this power growing inside of me, in response to an overwhelming need. The need to protect. To protect and avenge."

"Avenge?"

"Krillin… our people… you."

"…Me?" The tone was genuinely surprised.

"Of course. You're one of us now, Vegeta. Pretty much a good guy."

"I will never be one of you, Kakarot."

"You're fighting on our side against the androids, aren't you?"

"They are presenting a challenge. Nothing more, nothing less."

"You saved Krillin's life on Namek against the Ginyu Force. And then saved Gohan's against Frieza."

"Out of convenience. I needed them alive."

"You care about Bulma."

There was a low growl. "I most certainly _do not_. The woman could die for all I care."

"If you say so." The tone was knowing.

"Did your idiotic brain already erase the conversation that we had when the boy from the future was here? Nothing has changed, especially between us, Kakarot. I will even the score with you once this threat of the androids has passed. I swear it."

"I look forward to it, Vegeta... so... did I answer your question?"

"Hardly. You had an emotional response to seeing Baldy die. Clearly, emotion was your trigger. It won't be mine though, I assure you."

"Why not?"

"Because this whole planet could burn, and I couldn't care less."

"Then why risk your life to protect it?"

"You and the woman. You're both the same with your idiotic sentimentalities. I already told you that the androids are just another challenge among millions I've faced in my lifetime. I don't give a shit about this planet. Everyone here could die, and I wouldn't care."

"I don't know if I believe that. I really don't think you're evil, Vegeta."

"Fool. Need I remind you that I have murdered millions without mercy?"

"Under Frieza's orders."

"That might be, but I enjoyed it. Believe me."

"You're not like that anymore."

"I almost killed your friend this morning. The scarfaced one. I was seconds away from having his blood on my hands. Who ordered that?"

"If you really wanted to kill Yamcha, you would have. So why didn't you kill him?"

There was silence for a while.

Finally, there was a grunt. "I wish to return now. You have told me what I wanted to know, and now I'd rather be rid of your presence."

"Sure thing."

* * *

Vegeta waited in front of the Son house, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed as usual. His eyes were closed as he reflected on the conversation with Kakarot a few minutes ago. He tried to keep his focus on the important part, the only part that mattered. The trigger for Kakarot's ascension, and how he could possibly use this new information to make his own ascension a reality. The only reason he had bothered asking the other Saiyan for a conversation in the first place.

_So why didn't you kill him?  
_

Damn, no good, fucking idiot Kakarot. Asking him questions he didn't have the damn answers to.

He sensed the blue haired demon woman approaching him this time. After she had snuck up on him in her lab, he was not going to be caught unaware again. Vegeta hadn't survived Frieza's reign by making the same mistakes twice.

"Hey you," Bulma said with a smile as she walked up to him. "How are you feeling?"

The Saiyan Prince didn't move and didn't reply, not wanting to admit that he still felt like hell. Clearly, she already knew or she wouldn't have brought him there to retrieve the bean she had promised him. Did she really feel the need to make him admit his pain out loud? He opened his eyes and gave her a hard glare that used to make his enemies fear for their lives.

To his surprise, Bulma just laughed when she saw it. He raised an eyebrow.

And there it was again. His anger and temper curbed by the gentle touch of her laughter. He saw her blue eyes grow bright, noting how they looked different when she laughed. The fire that burned when she was teasing or challenging him was subdued and there was something else in its place. Something more soothing. He had never seen an expression quite like it in his entire life.

Annoyed, he growled in response to her laughter. "What is so funny, woman?!" he demanded, frustrated with the significant control she was wielding over his emotions.

"You'll never admit when you're in pain, will you, tough guy?" she told him teasingly. One of his eyes twitched before he furiously looked away from her and off to the side, grunting angrily. "That's okay though. I got you your Senzu bean so now you can feel better. You've been a little worse for wear the last couple days."

She decided it would be best if he didn't know that Goku had given her two. It would be good to have an extra one just in case he injured himself again. She reached out her hand towards him, one bean in her hand. "You can take half now and half later when you need it."

He kept his eyes away though he was looking at the bean through his peripheral vision. Finally, after some time, he decided to go through with it and just take the stupid thing. After all, with his strength restored, his power level would increase. It wouldn't be substantial since he wasn't recovering from a battle, but he thirsted for any ounce of power that got him closer to making his ascension.

Vegeta growled and stuck his hand out, still looking to the side. "Well, what are you waiting for? Hand the stupid thing over, woman!" he demanded angrily.

Bulma did as he asked and placed the bean in his palm. He brought it over in front of him and looked at it with disgust. Bulma was half-expecting him to crush it like he did the bottle of Tylenol the night before. She was pleasantly surprised though when he took the bean in both hands and broke it in half. He tossed a half into his mouth and swallowed it.

The relief flooded Vegeta instantly. He closed his eyes and could feel the pain in his back dissipate to nothing. His soreness washed away completely and he felt invigorated. He felt strong again, just like he should always feel. And it felt pretty fucking good.

"Better?" He opened his eyes to find her studying him, a small smile on her face. He just grunted and gave an indifferent shrug, but she wasn't fooled. She could practically see all the tension finally leaving his body after he took the bean. Her smile turned smug. "Thought so."

She turned and began walking towards her hover jet as his eyes followed her every movement. "Well, we should get going. We have a lot of shopping to do today. I know a few stores that should have things you like."

She had almost reached the hover jet when she realized that he wasn't following her. Narrowing her eyes in confusion, she looked over her shoulder to find that he was about five feet behind her. His arms were crossed, a challenging look in his eyes.

"Who says I am still going on this ridiculous excursion?" Vegeta asked, a wicked smirk growing on his face.

"What?! But we had a deal! I get you your bean, and you let me buy you clothes!" she snapped, glaring at him. His smirk just grew wider at the blazing fire in her eyes. He found that he was starting to really and truly enjoy igniting that fire.

"Foolish woman. You shouldn't have given me my end of the deal first," he said tauntingly. He then tossed her the other half of the bean she had given him. "Here. You take this for your arm. You need this more than I do, weakling."

"Vegeta!" Bulma cried out angrily. "You said you would!"

"There are no truths or lies in battle, woman. Only victory and defeat. And right now, I am the victor. You lose, human."

The prince then threw his head back and laughed loudly, his laughter an evil cackle as if he was standing over a defeated enemy about to be slain by his hand. He shot her another smug smirk before turning and taking off running for about ten feet. Bulma stared after him, fuming as he blasted up into the air and flew away.

The blue haired heiress then looked down at the half bean he had thrown to her. Without hesitation, she took it. Instantly, she felt all mobility return to her arm.

"Only victory or defeat, huh?" she said out loud as she removed the cast from her arm. She looked off in the direction Vegeta had flown in, which was very clearly back to his precious gravity room.

Bulma then ran to her hover jet and climbed in. She started it up and smirked as it levitated, before taking off after him. He thought he had pulled one over her eyes, and granted, she had been caught unaware. But she was going to show him that the war was far from over. Oh yes, she was going to show him that no one messed with Bulma Briefs and got away with it. He wanted to play this game, then she would play.

_He has no idea who he's dealing with… _she thought as her hover jet took off after him.


	10. Tick Tock

Vegeta held his head in both hands as he sat against the wall of the gravity room. He was grimacing as he leaned forward. Oh, he had experienced torture before, many times at the hands of Frieza and plenty of other times at the hands of various enemies. His enemies had always been creative in finding ways to try to make him suffer, and he had always been equally creative in coming up with vicious and cruel ways to make their deaths as painful as possible in response.

But never in his entire life had anyone done something like _this_ to him.

"I hate doing this to you, Vegeta. I really do," a downright evil voice said. "But we had a deal."

"Fiend," Vegeta hissed, looking up to stare into the blue eyes of his enemy as he continued holding his head.

Bulma laughed on the screen projection. He wanted to destroy the center control of the gravity room which would stop the link so he wouldn't have to see the blasted woman anymore. But to do so meant to destroy the gravity simulator. He realized with dismay that she had specifically designed it that way so he couldn't do a thing about it if she felt like interrupting him.

_Demon woman… devil wench…_

"Give it up, Vegeta," Bulma said smugly. "This is one battle you can't win. Just surrender."

"Never," he snarled.

"I can end your pain with the push of a button…" she said, her tone taunting.

Vegeta shot the projection a furious glare, his hands still on his head. "Woman, stop this at once or I will tear you limb from limb when I leave here," he threatened. "Don't think I won't just because you are a female!"

"Well, tough guy, you'd have to leave the gravity room to do that, which means I win by default," she said with a smirk. He growled, too agitated and flustered to respond, and she laughed. "What? Did you think me a mindless female?" she asked, using his own words against him as her smirk grew. "I'll have you know, Prince Vegeta of the Saiyans, that I am one woman not to be messed with."

She reached down and turned up the volume just a little bit. Not enough to hurt him with his sensitive hearing, but enough so that he couldn't tune out the music playing in the gravity room even if he tried.

_Evil bitch, _he thought furiously as the horrific sounds assaulted his ears. _Blue haired minx... _he looked back up at the projection to see her dancing to the music in her seat.

"I don't really like this kid's music, but this song is kinda catchy, don't you think, Vegeta?" she said innocently as she looked at him through the monitor on her desk, that smirk still on her face.

"Turn. It. OFF," he hissed through his teeth.

"Will you come shopping with me?" she asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him. She then burst out laughing, and went back to dancing, that triumphant smirk on her face. Bulma hadn't had this much fun in a long, _long_ time. Yamcha hardly ever opposed her, always caving in like a flower meeting a brick. Vegeta, on the other hand, was a hell of a lot more fun. She looked at him through her monitor, and her smirk grew into a grin. "Just say the word, buddy, and I'll turn it off."

He started shaking a little as she started singing along.

"_I'll buy you anything, I'll buy you any ring, and I'm in pieces, baby fix me…"_

"TURN IT OFF, WOMAN!" Vegeta roared at the projection, his eye twitching from his stress. He watched her ignore him and continue to dance and sing along.

"_And I just can't believe my first love won't be around... and I'm like, baby, baby, baby, ohhh…"_

Vegeta glared at her, still holding his head from the agony of having to hear these strange and awful Earth sounds that they actually dared call _music. _The prince had thought he was in the clear, thought he had emerged victorious. Then like an enemy on the battlefield still standing when the smoke cleared, he realized that she was far from defeated. Not only had she interrupted his training just as he was getting warmed up, but she had insisted on playing him a _training soundtrack _to "encourage" him to work harder_. _Like he knew what the hell a "soundtrack" was.

And then the music had started.

_Thank the Gods that this blasted woman wasn't born a Saiyan female, _he thought to himself as his eye continued to twitch. Bulma looked at him as if she caught his thought, and gave him a flirtatious smirk.

"Give up yet?"

"Never," he shot back, his eyes locked on hers defiantly.

"I see," Bulma said thoughtfully, before pressing a button and stopping the music altogether. He lowered his hands from his head, sighing in relief but still suspicious. He raised an eyebrow at her, wondering what the demon woman was going to do next. Bulma winked at him and raised her cell phone to her ear.

"Hey, Dad," Bulma said brightly. "Yeah, I'm great, how are you?... ah, yes, I see… well, just wanted to let you know that I'm not going to be able to make our meeting today at 3… I know, I'll take care of it later… all right, love you too, bye!"

She snapped her phone shut and looked at the scowling Saiyan sitting on the floor of the gravity room. "Now we have all day to have fun," she said smugly, before bursting out into a fit of delighted giggles as he visibly paled. Bulma spun on her wheeled chair as she turned to her laptop, pulling up the playlist she had composed just for her Saiyan guest. She casually scrolled through it, ignoring the dangerous growl coming through the monitor.

"Let's see. Justin Bieber isn't really my style, so let's just see who comes up on shuffle," she said, putting her playlist on shuffle and pressing play. The music came back on and Vegeta began shaking again, raising his hands to his head again. He squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to give in. "Oh, I love this song!" Bulma said with excitement, before starting to dance in her seat again.

Unfortunately for him, his resolve began to crumble when she started singing again. Vegeta clenched handfuls of his hair as he absent-mindedly wondered if Frieza had hired the blue haired vixen on Namek, just to ensure further torture in the event of the tyrant's death.

"_I'm talking pedicures on our toes, toes, trying on all our clothes, clothes, boys blowing up our phones, phones…"_

"WOMAN!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, a vein visibly pulsing on his temple.

"Yes, your highness?" she asked innocently, turning to look at him with that maddening smirk on her face.

"TURN THAT BLOODY RACKET OFF AT ONCE!" he roared, before taking a deep breath. "I… I will…" his voice trailed off, his pride refusing to give in but his sanity begging him to end the madness.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Bulma said, turning down the music a little. She leaned in closer to the camera that was recording her, cupping a hand around her ear. "You will what? Please, do finish your sentence, Vegeta."

Vegeta blushed furiously as he looked away, refusing to watch the triumph sparkling in her blue eyes. He couldn't believe this was actually happening, but he was about to give in to the blue haired demon woman. He didn't want to, but he was a second away from putting a palm up to his temple and blasting his own head off if he had to withstand more of this torture.

The proud prince seethed through his teeth, closing his eyes, "I will go with you to buy the blasted garments," he muttered.

Bulma smiled in satisfaction. "That's what I thought," she said smugly, before that smirk was back on her face. "But you do know that I can't take you shirtless like you are, right?"

Vegeta looked down at the white, collared shirt on the floor. He had ripped it off and torn it to pieces as soon as he was inside the gravity room, along with the bandages that had been on his arms. He had seen no need for either since he was going to start his training again.

"That's okay though, I found you another shirt you can wear, you _bad_ _man_ you."

He looked up and saw what he was dreading: she was holding up a very familiar short-sleeved, pink, collared shirt with **BADMAN** on the back.

Now he was sorely wishing he had kept the stupid white shirt intact.

_What a conniving little demon wench! _he thought to himself as he growled angrily. Even though he was embarrassed, he couldn't help the feeling of admiration rising up in his chest. She had fearlessly pressed his buttons and had, he admitted silently to himself, won this battle. Then she had added insult to injury by forcing him to wear the one garment he hated more than any other in the world. She was as cunning as he was (if not more) and damn it to hell if he didn't feel some respect burning inside of him for her.

"Fine!" he finally spat out, giving in as his cheeks burned even more. He sulked and tried disappearing into the wall as he stared bitterly at the floor. "Whatever," he muttered.

"Excellent," she said with a huge smirk. "I'll see you out in front in five. And I'm just going to leave this playing, just in case. Don't want you running off again." She turned up the music, and gave him another wink.

The projection was finally over, as was his dignity for the day.

Bulma snickered when she saw Vegeta finally approaching her hover jet a few moments later, with a look on his face like he wanted to blow her to pieces. She smirked and twirled the pink shirt around a little in one hand.

"I said five minutes, dear prince, and you are one minute late," she teased. Vegeta shot her a glare that would've killed her on the spot if looks could kill, before snatching the pink shirt right out of her hands.

"I hope the worms eat you quickly when you're dead, woman," the Saiyan Prince snarled with pure venom in his voice. Bulma just laughed and walked around the hover jet to get into the driver's seat.

They flew in silence. He had his arms crossed tightly over his chest, staring straight ahead, his jaw angrily set. Even when she tried engaging him in small talk, he would either growl low in his throat or ignore her completely. Bulma decided to drop it, just happy that he was there with her.

Vegeta slammed the door shut so hard when he exited the hover jet that the entire vehicle shook from the impact. Bulma shot him a glare as she pressed a button on her hover jet, encapsulating it.

"Watch it, buddy, you're going to ruin our ride home," she warned him, picking up the capsule and putting it in her purse.

"You mean _your _ride home," Vegeta shot back, crossing his arms angrily as he instinctively took in his new surroundings.

They were in a parking lot to a mall, where he could see people walking in and out of various stores, getting in and out of their cars without worries, unaware of the destruction fated for their world in less than two years now. The environment was making him tense. Vegeta wasn't used to being around so many people when he wasn't murdering everyone in sight.

Bulma saw the way the Saiyan was anxiously looking around him, and could easily tell his clear discomfort. She reached out her hand to him. His dark eyes immediately shifted back at her, before narrowing.

"Come on, Vegeta. It won't be so bad," she told him gently, giving him a small smile. His look turned disgusted when he saw that Bulma was offering him her hand.

"I am not a child that you can drag around, woman!" he snapped at her. "And what the devil are you wearing?" he demanded, looking at the odd contraption on her face that hadn't been there before. "Is that some type of scouter?"

"No, they're sunglasses. They protect my eyes from the sun, or in this case, they keep me from being identified," she said with a nonchalant shrug.

"Identified?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "People would recognize you?"

She gave him a smug smile. "Well… I _am _the wealthiest and smartest woman on the planet, Vegeta." She raised an eyebrow back at him. "Don't you remember my invention I showed you? Take your knowledge of physics, and multiply it by a thousand. Then you might be a little closer to my scientific know-how," she said with a smirk.

He grunted and rolled his eyes. "Woman, your arrogance is astounding."

"Pot, meet kettle?"

"Huh?" he asked, giving her a bewildered look.

"It basically means you're being hypocritical," she said with a chuckle. "Besides, I can hardly help it if my parents produced someone gorgeous like me with a killer brain and personality to boot."

He snorted. "Annoying as hell too."

"Hmm... I like how you didn't deny what I said," she told him with a wink. He growled at her as she turned and walked off. "Come now, we have lots to do."

Bulma walked into the first store, keenly aware of Vegeta walking behind her. He stayed extremely close to her, so much in fact that she was amazed he hadn't nicked the back of her heels as they walked. The tension was practically radiating off of him in waves and she could easily feel it, but he didn't utter a single word of protest. She couldn't help but smile, knowing this was a big step for him. She wondered briefly how receptive he would be to her showing him what the Earth had to offer. Considering how she had to practically torture him into coming with her that day, she figured he wouldn't be very receptive at all.

But, they _did_ have just under two years…

"Here we go," she said brightly, plucking out a shirt on a hanger. She turned to show him, but his eyes were scanning the area, his eyebrows furrowed together. Bulma tilted her head a little. "Vegeta?"

He instantly turned to her, and frowned. His senses were being overwhelmed, and he decided it was probably best that he hurry this ridiculous trip along, lest his unease get the best of him and he destroy everyone in the whole mall.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked him, reaching out and taking his hand. He growled and instantly pulled it back.

"Stop doing that!" Vegeta hissed, before snatching the hanger and shirt out of her hand. "Now let me see this stupid thing!"

"Okay, okay, geez," Bulma said, raising an eyebrow as she watched him examine the shirt. He tugged on it and stretched it in some places, before scoffing.

"This is pathetic for fighting," he finally said, before tossing the whole thing over his shoulder.

"Vegeta!" she cried out. The prince blinked in surprise at her outburst, and gave her a confused look. Her anger immediately subsided when she saw it. In fact, she smiled a little at him. He wasn't from the planet; clearly, he didn't know how things worked. And he looked so endearing when he got that confused look on his face. "You have to put the clothes back on the racks if you don't want them," she patiently explained as she went to pick up the discarded shirt.

"Hn. Woman, take me to find some garments suitable for fighting," he ordered as she stood up. Bulma sighed and looked at him in exasperation.

"You already have your armor for that," she told him matter-of-factly. "We aren't here to buy you things to fight in, Vegeta. These are clothes that you can relax in. Now, come over here, you might like this section."

Vegeta stayed very close to her, following her as he mumbled colorful curses in all kinds of languages under his breath, languages from Earth and from other worlds. Very quickly, she realized that he hated anything with any type of pattern, lettering, stripes, or any kind of design. He preferred plain and solid colors. She picked out a few long-sleeved button-down shirts for him; one black, one white, one blue, all three of different sizes.

Bulma turned to him, arranging the shirts in her hands, "Alright, you have to try these on. We'll see which one fits you best, and then we'll know what size to-Vegeta! What are you doing?"

Vegeta looked at her in annoyance, just as he shrugged out of his pink shirt. He let it fall to the floor. "What now, woman?" he asked impatiently. "You said I have to try the blasted things on, didn't you? Now, hand them over."

"Put your shirt back on!" she hissed, looking around her. Already there were women who had stopped dead in their tracks to look over at him, appreciating the view. There were some men too who glanced over with envious eyes. Not that she could blame any of them, but still.

"How else am I supposed to try on these new garments?" he asked, a smirk now spreading over his face at the blush spreading over hers. "Put them over that pink abomination?"

Bulma growled, picked up his pink shirt, and then grabbed him by the hand. Out of amusement, he allowed her to drag him to the nearest fitting rooms, nonchalantly checking out her backside the whole time.

_Thank Kami I didn't take him to get pants first… _Bulma thought, her face bright red.

They stopped walking when they got to the changing rooms. A stylish-looking young man with trendy glasses perked up at their arrival from behind a desk, smiling up happily.

"Hi there, Miss. Would you like—oh my," he said as he saw the tanned, bare chested flame-haired man standing next to her, his jaw dropping a little. Vegeta was too busy looking around to notice. Bulma took a quick glance at the man's name tag.

"Daniel," she greeted politely. "We'll need a fitting room in the men's section."

It was only then that Bulma realized that they were in fact still actually holding hands. She looked at Vegeta, but he was looking off to the side in concentration, tuned into someone else's conversation. It seemed like he forgot that they were still holding hands too.

She cracked a small smile.

"I'll get your handsome friend a fitting room as soon as possible," Daniel said eagerly, eyeing Vegeta's exposed upper body with rapacious eyes. The Saiyan instantly turned and settled his dark gaze on the young man, only now becoming aware of the scrutiny. He snarled dangerously in response.

"You better look away before I rip your eyes right out of your head! Understand?" Vegeta hissed. The man visibly paled as Bulma just forced a laugh.

"He's just kidding! We'll pick out a fitting room ourselves, don't worry about it!" she told Daniel nervously, before pulling Vegeta along. She had to use practically all of her strength to get him to budge, and even then, it was only because he allowed it.

"I most certainly was NOT kidding, woman!" Vegeta yelled adamantly as they continued walking. Bulma sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, come now," she said, still holding hands with the agitated Saiyan behind her. "You don't mind when it's _me_ looking at your sexy body." She was met with silence. Looking over her shoulder, Bulma saw him scowling with reddened cheeks. She snickered. "This is why we have fitting rooms, Vegeta. It's so you can change in private."

Finally, she found a room that wasn't being used. She walked in and removed her sunglasses, putting them in her purse. She then stretched on her toes to reach the hooks to hang up his shirts. Vegeta watched the back of her snug blouse rise up a couple of inches when she did so. He raised an eyebrow at the smooth, exposed skin of her lower back.

Her figure was positively divine, and he couldn't help but wonder what the rest of the skin on her back looked like with the blouse removed completely… along with her pants… what would she look like in her natural state, without any ridiculous clothes in the way?

"You can change here. Try these shirts on, and I'll go pick out some-"

Her words died on her lips when she turned around, only to find Vegeta practically in her face. His eyes were heated and intense as they roamed over her body, and she suddenly became acutely aware of his body heat from his proximity.

She backed up a little. He stayed still, his gaze following her. His eyes were almost suffocating with their intensity.

"Vegeta?"

He blinked a few times and shook his head a little, as if regaining his senses. He took a small step back. Noticing that she was still looking at him with an expression he couldn't read, he frowned at her.

"Don't get any ideas, woman. I don't want a damn thing to do with a woman who has sex with that scarfaced fool, especially when that woman is _you,_" he sneered.

His tone was extremely convincing considering that he had been visualizing himself throwing Bulma against the wall in the fitting room and ripping all of her clothes off, taking her however he wanted, for as long as he wanted. It was a testament only to his incredible will power that he wasn't doing so at that very moment with how badly he craved her body. His sudden and overwhelming need for her had blindsided him, and he didn't know what to make of it. The prince took another small step back, away from her, and crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

To give in to his physical need for her would be to give in to weakness.

And it would be a cold day in hell before Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, _ever_ willingly gave in to weakness.

Bulma just stared at him in confusion, unsure of what the hell that had been about. One minute it looked like he was seconds away from completely ravaging her, and then the next he was being cold and aloof again. She let out a deep, slow breath. The Saiyan was more complicated than astrophysics.

"Well… okay then, I'll just go find you some more things you can try on," she said, trying to ease the tension that was now propagating in the small fitting room.

He just grunted, and Bulma took that as her cue to leave.

Two hours later, they had already picked out a variety of shirts and sweaters for him, all of solid colors. Pants had been no big deal either: he liked dark or neutral colors. He had given an indifferent shrug to jeans when she offered them to him, so she figured those were fine.

Vegeta was now staring at a variety of boots in the men's shoe section, scrutinizing the selection while Bulma watched him. He had hardly said anything to her since that awkward moment in the fitting room, but he wasn't being as difficult as she thought he would be. She found that he was much more receptive to the experience when she allowed him to make his own selections, instead of her choosing for him.

Finally, Vegeta picked out a box with black, steel-toed boots. He threw the box aside, making Bulma roll her eyes. He tossed the boots up a few times, catching them and feeling them out. They had lifts in them that would give him another inch in height. Oh yeah, he was _definitely _sold.

He looked over at her and smirked. "These are adequate," he said.

"Great, we'll take them then," she said with a bright smile. The boots were the first thing he had actually seemed genuinely interested in. "Now let's go get you a nice jacket, and then I'll end your misery," she teased, going and taking the boots from him.

"Fine," Vegeta muttered, crossing his arms and walking after her. He had already come this far, he might as well see it through all the way, lest she decide to coerce him into doing this again. Bulma was pushing some contraption with wheels, having dumped all the clothes she was going to buy for him in it. The prince stayed extremely close to her, continuously glancing around him. His anxiety had passed for the most part, but Vegeta still felt a bit overwhelmed. He found that if he stayed close to Bulma though, her sweet scent had the effect of soothing that feeling.

If his proximity bothered her, she gave no indication of it.

"Here we go," she said, stopping abruptly. Vegeta stopped himself at the last possible moment, almost running right into her from how close he had been. He scowled and looked around impatiently.

"Now where are we, woman?" he asked with an impatient sigh.

"Check out the jackets over there," Bulma said, motioning to their right. "Who knows? You might actually find something you like. Crazy thought, huh?" she teased light-heartedly.

Vegeta gave her a dirty look, before taking a deep breath and venturing off to see what she was talking about. Bulma leaned into her cart and watched as he began scrutinizing the leather jackets she had led him to. She noted how his gaze changed when he was studying an article of clothing. His look was studious, concentrated, and thorough. She smiled a little as she remembered just how intelligent he was. It was so refreshing to be around someone other than her father who had an actual appreciation for science, even if his knowledge was only basic compared to hers.

Bulma stood there for a while, losing track of time as she daydreamed about showing Vegeta more about science, when his voice finally interrupted her thoughts.

"Hello? Woman! Can't you hear me?" he demanded impatiently. Bulma blinked and snapped out of it, before looking over at him.

She tried not to let her jaw drop.

Vegeta had changed into some of his new clothes and was now wearing dark blue jeans, the black boots, a black, sleeveless shirt that accentuated his physique nicely, and a brown leather jacket over it. The jacket had the collar popped up, and she figured that was more to him not knowing to lower it than him trying to make a fashion statement. Nonetheless, he looked unbelievably handsome and she couldn't look away from him even if she tried.

Vegeta buttoned up the cuff of his jacket, looking at her in pure bewilderment as he wondered why she was staring at him like that. He stopped what he was doing to self-consciously rub one hand over his face, just to make sure that he didn't have something there that she was staring at. Finally, he thought of a possible reason for her intense gaze and scowled at her. "I threw that stupid pink shirt away," he sneered. "It's not worthy of royalty. And if you so much as _suggest _that I go get it, then I swear, woman, I will-"

"No, definitely leave it there," Bulma said, almost in a daze. Vegeta looked at her like she was going crazy, before adjusting his jacket again. He looked down at it, and wouldn't admit it, but he really liked the material. He had never felt anything like it, and it felt a hell of a lot stronger than the other stupid Earth garments he had seen that day. The rest of the things they had picked out weren't as high quality.

Except for the boots. He did like the boots.

"Well? Can we go now?" he growled impatiently. "I would like to train for the androids, if you don't mind. You know, the ones that are coming to destroy your planet," he added sarcastically.

Bulma just smiled at him, thrilled that the day had been a success in all kinds of ways. No one had died, she had gotten him a Senzu bean so he could feel better, she had outwitted him in a battle of wills, and now she had gotten him some nice clothes. And best of all, they were actually _talking_.

And the more they talked, the more she liked him.

"Definitely, let's pay for this stuff and get out of here."

* * *

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I hope you enjoyed it, because it's never happening again, woman," he snarled angrily. He shot her a glare, and then got out of the hover jet. Bulma just sighed as she got out as well.

"Honestly, Vegeta. You aren't going to live very long being so angry all the time," she told him. He snorted and didn't reply, continuing to walk back to the compound. "Will you _wait _a second? I need to give you the capsule with the clothes we got today!"

Vegeta gave an exasperated growl as he stopped walking, an eye beginning to twitch, before turning back to face her. He just wanted to be _rid _of her already. The last two days of hearing her and being around her were driving him nuts. He was sure that further time together would result in him either killing her or forcing himself on her. Neither situation was ideal.

"Will you _hurry the hell up_, woman?" he snapped.

"Oh, just relax. The gravity simulator will still be there," Bulma said as she rolled her eyes, finally reaching him. To her delight, he was still wearing his leather jacket. It suited him very well. "Here, Mister Impatient. Just press the button and throw it to the floor. The clothes will all be there for you."

"They had _better_ be," he shot at her, snatching the capsule and putting it in the pocket of his jacket as he turned to finally walk away.

"Geez, Vegeta! Will it kill you to be nice to me for a change? I've been nice to you all day."

He stopped walking.

Slowly, Vegeta turned to look over his shoulder at her. He raised an eyebrow. "Is that a fact?" Bulma didn't like the look on his face as he finally turned around. "What about earlier today? I almost forgot about your underhanded coercion to get me to come on your trip. That wasn't very nice, woman…"

"Um," Bulma said nervously, backing up a little as he approached her. He was looking like he was advancing on an enemy that was on their very last legs, a cunning and devilish smirk on his face. "I don't know what you're talking about…"

"Oh, I see. You've developed amnesia. How convenient," he said mockingly.

"Oh come on! You had a good time," Bulma exclaimed, studying his dark eyes for what this new game was. His smirk just grew.

"You know what I think of as a good time?" the prince asked dangerously. Bulma swallowed, and shook her head slowly, her body tense. She was anticipating him saying something along the lines of murder, violence, fighting, battling…

"I think teaching people new things is always a good time."

"Huh?" she asked, blinking in confusion. That was extremely unexpected.

"Sure. Like teaching people how to fly," he said calmly. Her eyes began to widen, but he continued before she could say a word. "Here. I'll show you, woman."

"Ve-"

That's all she got out before he grabbed her by the wrist, reared up, and then threw her up into the air as hard as he could. Bulma shrieked and screamed for her life as she soared up into the air with frightening speed. She pathetically tried flapping her arms as if that would help her somehow fly. Vegeta saw this down on the ground, and he couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped him at the sight. He raised a fist to his mouth to stifle the rest of his laughter, but his eyes were bright with amusement as he watched her disappear into a tiny dot in the sky.

_I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE! _She thought to herself in sheer panic as she finally came to a stop in midair. Then gravity took over and she began to plummet back down to the Earth.

She screamed as she saw the ground coming closer and closer to her. She once again tried flapping her arms as she continued hollering. "VEEEHHH-GEEEE-TAAAAAA, YOOOUUU JAAAACKKAAASSSSSSS!"

Finally, she landed.

Right in his arms.

Bulma looked at him, dazed, her whole body trembling from the terror of free-falling from such an outrageous height. He just gave her a maddening smirk, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, that wasn't very nice. I save your life, and you call me a jackass. Perhaps you should take your own advice and be nicer to me," he said tauntingly.

"You… I… jerk… I hate you…" she breathed out, still shaking. His arms holding her were strong and warm, and she couldn't help but instinctively lean against him as she tried to get her trembling under control. His smirk just grew.

"Such anger and hatred. You won't live very long like that, woman." He then let go of her completely, dropping her on the ground. Bulma yelped when she landed hard on her bottom. Vegeta crossed his arms as he stood over her, his posture and the look in his eyes triumphant.

"You… I swear…" she growled, glaring up at him as she tried forcing her heart rate to slow down.

"Don't play these games with me, little girl," the Saiyan Prince said as he snickered. "You'll lose every time."

Bulma was so frazzled, and Vegeta was so preoccupied, that neither of them noticed that Yamcha was now staring at them from the compound entrance. He had been waiting inside for them to return, and had heard Bulma screaming for her life. He had then run out to see what was going on. The sight that greeted him was Bulma sitting on the ground, shaking and looking disheveled as she glared up furiously at Vegeta. Standing over her was the Saiyan bastard, looking smug and proud of himself. He immediately figured that Vegeta must have attacked her or something, and that was the cause for her screams.

Yamcha's sight went red.

Bulma was almost standing up when she was surprised by the dangerous sound of Vegeta snarling. Before she could ask what was wrong, the Saiyan shoved her roughly back. She yelped out again as she flew back a couple of feet, landing hard on her bottom again. She opened her mouth to scream curses at him and ask him what the hell his problem was, when she suddenly saw Yamcha spear Vegeta with a fury that was frightening. Yamcha tackled the Saiyan with so much speed that they both flew ten feet back before slamming into her hover jet, completely destroying it.

Vegeta absorbed the brunt of the impact and hissed in pain. He immediately pushed it away as his fury took over. Yamcha aimed a punch for his head, and Vegeta moved his head out of the way before punching Yamcha hard in the ribs. He then punched Yamcha with his other fist in the face, effectively knocking the other man off of him. The Saiyan snarled and got up, before charging right at Yamcha, both of them ignoring Bulma screaming for them to stop.

Yamcha was expecting the Saiyan charging at him like this, and he dodged out of the way at the very, very last moment. Vegeta noted, too late, that he had underestimated the human. The scarfaced weakling had advanced a considerable amount since the Saiyan's very first visit to Earth. He realized this when Yamcha surprised him by dodging him and ramming an elbow into his lower back. Vegeta dropped to the ground on his hands and knees, letting out a choking cry of pain; Yamcha had hit him right where he still had a small stub leftover from his tail.

"YAMCHA, STOP IT!" Bulma screamed at him.

Yamcha, blinded by fury now, ignored her when he saw the weakness in Vegeta and realized what he had done. He immediately made a rash decision to capitalize.

Before Vegeta could realize what was happening, Yamcha lifted Vegeta's shirt and jacket, pulled the back of his jeans out a few inches, and fired a ki blast right into the small stub.

Vegeta screamed in agony, the pain in his sensitive nerves feeling like it was going to rip his whole body as half as he collapsed to the ground. He spasmed and grit his teeth, exhaling furiously through his nose, curses running endlessly through his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut as hatred suddenly flooded through him.

Yamcha seemed to realize that he had crossed the line when he saw Vegeta convulsing on the ground. Bulma immediately blew past Yamcha and dropped to her knees next to Vegeta.

"Are you okay?" she asked with pure concern, her hands on his upper back. He growled in response and turned his head away from her, not wanting her to see him like this as he struggled to get the convulsions under control. Bulma looked over her shoulder at Yamcha, who backed up a little over the intensity of the fury in her eyes. "What the HELL is wrong with you, you asshole?" she screamed at him.

"What's wrong with ME?" Yamcha asked in disbelief. "That Saiyan bastard hurt you! He got what he deserved!"

"HE DIDN'T HURT ME, YOU IDIOT!" Bulma shrieked. She turned back to Vegeta who was up to his hands and knees now, his whole body shaking from pain. She put a hand on his shoulder, "You'll be okay, I have another Sen-"

Vegeta growled dangerously and cut her off, "Stand back, woman, or you'll die too," he hissed through his teeth, giving her a harsh glare.

"What do you mean, he didn't hurt you?" Yamcha asked, taking a wary step back now. His fists were still raised and his right eye was swelling from the punch Vegeta landed. He was starting to realize that he might have just sealed his death sentence.

Bulma wasn't listening to him as she focused on the Saiyan getting back up to his feet. She got up to hers as well, one hand on Vegeta's arm and the other on his back. "Vegeta, don't-"

"I said, STAND BACK, WOMAN!" Vegeta screamed. He then shoved her roughly away from him. Bulma yelped as she stumbled back a few steps, before landing sitting down. She very quickly forgot that this was the third time now that her poor bottom had dropped to the ground when she saw the completely enraged look on Vegeta's face as he slowly turned to face Yamcha.

"You… coward…" Vegeta spat out, his body still shaking. Bulma couldn't tell if it was still from pain or from rage, not recognizing the look in his eyes anymore.

Vegeta's eyes were distant and unseeing. Aside from the fool who had cut his tail off, no one had _ever _so blatantly targeted the base of his tail, except for one being.

He wasn't seeing Yamcha anymore.

He was now seeing Frieza.

Yamcha took a few steps back, his resolve crumbling at the look of murderous fury in Vegeta's eyes.

"Vegeta…" Yamcha said, gulping. "I… I thought you had-"

He was silenced when Vegeta closed his eyes, threw his head back, and roared in unadulterated rage, his ki exploding around him in a powerful blue aura. Yamcha fell back from the force, landing sitting down and watching the Saiyan power up at a rapid pace. He gulped again.

_Oh no! What have I done? _he wondered in despair. He looked over at Bulma, and she looked back at him. She just shook her head at him, disappointment in her eyes, before she turned back to look at Vegeta. Her mind was racing as she tried coming up with something to stop him. If she didn't think of something fast, he was going to kill Yamcha. Of this, she had very little doubt…

"Human," Vegeta seethed, not seeing Bulma or what she was doing, "I promise that I will make your death as painful as poss-"

His words and rage choked in his throat, his eyes widening in shock when he suddenly felt warm lips on his and warm hands on both sides of his face.

Bulma could think of no other way to break through to him as she started sucking on his lower lip. Her only hope was that the shock of her action would calm him down long enough for her to talk him down.

Vegeta, too shocked to push her away, instinctively growled low in his throat at the sensation of her sucking on his lower lip. He had never had anyone do it to him before, and it almost instantaneously aroused him. Bulma shuddered a little bit when she heard and felt him, before pressing herself fully against him. He was burning hot with his ki fully powered up, and his heat was addicting. He gasped inaudibly at the feel of her body against his, and for the moment completely forgot about what he had been planning to do.

Vegeta then noticed Yamcha staring at them in absolute dismay, and he suddenly realized what the woman was doing. She was doing this just to distract him from murdering her precious mate.

_Well, two can play this game, _he thought smugly. The woman might have thought she was helping Yamcha, but it was clear from the look on the weakling's face that she was causing him unbearable pain. The fool looked like he was seconds away from bursting into tears. Vegeta realized with absolute delight that this display was much worse than any possible beating that he could dish out. In trying to help Yamcha, Bulma had given Vegeta the key to getting the ultimate payback.

And he was all game for making payback as painful as possible.

Shooting Yamcha a triumphant look, Vegeta put one strong arm around Bulma's waist and pulled her firmly against him.

He then closed his eyes and returned her kiss.

Bulma's heartbeat raced when she felt his lips respond to hers. She couldn't help the moan that escaped her at the feel of him dominantly working his tongue into her mouth. The hot moistness of his mouth was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted. She had only meant this to be a brief distraction, but now she found that she couldn't pull away.

Vegeta powered down, completely forgetting that this kiss was just for show to hurt Yamcha as he fully explored every last crevice of her mouth. The woman had a taste that he had never encountered before in the entire universe. She tasted sweet, and he quickly found that he could not get enough of her taste.

Vegeta put one hand on the side of her neck to deepen the kiss when a single moment of sanity hit her like a bolt of lightning. Extremely reluctantly, she breathlessly pulled away from him. He groaned in disapproval but forced himself to remain still and not force their kiss to continue. Bulma looked up into his eyes to find that they were clouded over with lust and desire as he stared back into hers. His look alone was practically enough to make her moan, and it frightened her how right their kiss had felt.

With one kiss, Vegeta had lit her world completely on fire and showed her a passion she had never once experienced with Yamcha.

Vegeta smirked at the dazed look in her eyes.

"Your plan worked, woman," he said, making her eyes widen in realization. He snickered and looked over at Yamcha, before looking back at her. "And so did mine," he told her in a smug, low voice.

With enormous self-discipline, Vegeta let her go, turned around, and walked off. The pain in his lower back from Yamcha's blast was paling in comparison to how badly his body was aching to have the woman right then. He ignored it though; he had used her to get back at the scarfaced weakling, and that was all he needed of her. To give in more would be stupid and weak. He ignored his body protesting at the loss of her heat as he took to the air to fly over the compound to the gravity room.

Bulma just watched Vegeta fly off, still dazed. She hadn't meant the kiss to go down like _that_. But now she could only think of one word…

_Damn._

"I knew it."

She blinked and suddenly turned to see that Yamcha was on his knees. He looked completely defeated, and she sighed.

"I was trying to stop him from killing you."

"Looked like more to me," he said in a pained voice.

"Yamcha… I'm sorry, but…"

"But what?" Yamcha asked in a wary voice, not liking her tone.

"Look," Bulma sighed. "You've just been all over me lately, you know? I can't even talk to Vegeta without you-"

"YOU WERE KISSING HIM!" Yamcha roared angrily.

"I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!" she yelled back at him instinctively. Her eyes widened as she realized what she had just said. The words had just tumbled out without thought or hesitation.

Yamcha let out a choked sound, looking at her in disbelief. "What?"

"I just… I'm just pissed at you right now, okay? I can't believe what you did to Vegeta," she said in disgust. His jaw dropped.

"I thought he hurt you, Bulma!"

"He didn't hurt me, you idiot!"

"Well how was I supposed to know that?" he screamed angrily as he got up to his feet. "He's a murderer and a monster, AND NOW YOU'RE CHOOSING THAT ASSHOLE OVER ME!"

Bulma recoiled as if he had actually struck her. She tried to form words, but didn't know what to say. Finally, she took a deep breath, regained her bearings, and stared evenly at him.

"Vegeta is a lot more than a _murderer_. Sure, he might have been… less than noble… in the past, but that is in the past. He has good in his heart, I know he does. If you would open your eyes and stop resenting him for a Saibaman getting the best of you, maybe you would see that," she said in a calm voice, though her eyes were furious. "And I am _not _choosing him over you, you moron. If I wouldn't have stepped in right now, you would be dead! I just saved your life you idiot!"

"FINE!" Yamcha yelled in exasperation. "Why don't you go be with your great and amazing Saiyan _pal_ and leave me to worry about saving my own life! You sure as hell seemed to enjoy _distracting _him!"

"FINE!" she screamed back at him. "He's a better kisser than you anyways!"

He glared furiously at her. "Too bad he'll never give a shit about you. Vegeta is incapable of caring about anyone or anything except himself. He is going to break you, and when he does, I'll tell you that I told you so," he told her bitterly.

Tears came to her eyes over his harsh words, and she choked over her words before finally saying, "I told you I wasn't interested in a romantic relationship with Vegeta. And contrary to what you might think, I'm still not interested. But right now, you are the absolute last person I want to be in a relationship with. So get the fuck off my property, before I go ask Vegeta to make you leave. I'm pretty sure he would gladly care about _that._"

Yamcha's face reddened, and he took a step back. He hesitated momentarily, seeing a relationship spanning over a decade crumbling down with heartbreaking speed. At the look in her eyes, though, he knew the truth. He turned around and reluctantly took to the sky as he began to accept what was staring him right in the face.

They were really over.

* * *

**A/N: "Tik Tok" is by Ke$ha and "Baby" is by Justin Bieber. ;) **


	11. Late Nights

Bulma finished off the last drop inside her beer bottle before putting it down near her cell phone. She eyed the phone for a brief moment, tempted to call him. Instead, she sighed and turned back to the sea of capacitors, resistors, and circuitry laid out in front of her in her private lab. This mess of electronics made perfect sense to her. Condensing it all into a new addition to her virtual reality simulator was going to be time consuming due to the amount of work to be done, yet it was very simple in nature to the genius engineer. She could lose herself in her technical work, forget that the rest of the Earth existed and only live for the next improvement that she could make happen.

It made it easy to forget that she was missing Yamcha terribly.

The blue haired heiress was honestly surprised that he hadn't called her yet; it had been an entire month. Even when they had made their angry exchange, in the back of her mind, she had assumed he would call her and beg her for forgiveness. That's just how things worked between them. They fought, he came crawling back, he flattered her enough, she forgave him, they moved on. Clearly, though, this time was different. It seemed that a line had been crossed with her words, or her actions. Maybe both. She wasn't sure where the line had been drawn, or when she had crossed it, but clearly she had, or he would've called by now. Out of sheer pride and dignity, Bulma absolutely refused to be the one to break first and make the first call.

So she worked. Kept her hands and mind busy in a rediscovered, vigorous work ethic. Kept her mind from drifting to Yamcha and how much she wanted to hear and feel him.

Bulma glanced over at the time on her cell phone and sighed. It was already two in the morning and she had been working for eight hours straight with no break except to get a beer from the fridge upstairs. Every employee from Capsule Corporation had long called it a night.

But she was far from tired. In fact, she was craving another beer.

A few minutes later, Bulma opened her fridge and pulled out a new, cold bottle. She walked over to a drawer and opened it, pulling out a bottle opener. As she was putting it on the bottle, she looked up, out the large kitchen window. Instinctively, she frowned at the darkness of her massive backyard. Oh, how she missed the moon and the way it would light up the yard at night.

Bulma narrowed her eyes a bit and looked closer, and suddenly realized that the yard wasn't empty. It was dark out, but in the darkness she could still make out a silhouette that was pitch black on the grass. It wasn't hard to guess who it was, with the flame shaped hair of the silhouette.

_What is he doing up at this hour? _she wondered curiously. Sure, he had said he couldn't sleep before, but it wasn't like she was rolling around in the sheets with Yamcha these days.

She looked down with a heavy sigh, and flicked off the top of her beer bottle. She figured she'd go and join him. It wasn't like she had anything better to do anyways. Not to mention that deep down, she was aching for some company. Even if it was only his.

_Where am I going wrong?_

That was the question Vegeta had been pondering for hours on end now. He was sitting outside, crosslegged on the grass, his eyes closed and a brooding look on his face as he searched for the right answer. He had tried to lose himself in his training, tried not to think about it, but the question had been haunting him for a while now.

How was it possible that he was working so hard, and achieving so little? Meanwhile, a Saiyan of third class had easily surpassed him. Here he was, working his ass off every single day, and he could only tell minimal increases in his strength.

He was missing something. He was missing a trigger.

But _what_? What could he possibly be missing that would take him to the next level?

He was stuck, and it was infuriating.

Bulma observed him curiously as she approached him. Vegeta had his back to her, and was wearing a black collared shirt with blue jeans. His posture was perfect, his back straight up as his forearms rested casually on his knees. She smiled a little when she saw that he was actually wearing some of the clothes they had bought together.

"Go away, woman," he ordered harshly, sensing her without opening his eyes. "I have no time for your foolishness right now."

"Vegeta, I live here. I can sit out here if I want."

Vegeta scowled at her remark but had no retort for that. His scowl only deepened when he heard her sit down on the grass a few feet away from him on his left. He hadn't seen the woman since the day she had coerced him into shopping with her, and he was more than happy about that. Deep down, the prince had been concerned that she was going to read way too much into their kiss and begin to nag him about stupid emotional garbage. Fortunately, that hadn't been the case at all.

Now she was here again though, and his body tensed in anticipation of her usual, stupid, human chit-chat.

But it didn't come.

Finally growing impatient, the prince growled, "What do you want from me now, woman?"

"Nothing. Just saw you out here and thought I'd join you."

"I don't need company," he sneered. "Least of all _yours_."

"Well, maybe I could use some company," she said, unfazed by his hostile tone.

"Go to your so-called mate and find company with him then," he snapped.

"I would, but we broke up," Bulma admitted, staring at the grass in front of her. Her voice wasn't pained or regretful. She was simply stating the facts. It was the first time she had admitted it out loud, to anyone, and she was a bit surprised by how easily the words rolled off her tongue.

She raised her bottle of beer and took a drink.

Vegeta fell into silence, not bothering to respond to that. Her words were hardly a revelation to him. He had flown over the compound after their kiss and landed on the windowsill to his bedroom where he had snuck in to change out of his clothes and into his workout shorts and gym shoes. When he had flown out the window again, he had heard their end exchange.

Now he just waited in disgust for her to break down into tears like a typical female broken by foolish emotional attachments. The prince was already on edge, and he was sure as hell not in the mood to hear her bitching, moaning, and crying over her fool of a mate. If he even _was_ her true mate. Where he came from, mates were forever, not some whimsical attachment that came and went with the wind.

To his surprise, the tears didn't come. Instead, he felt her move closer to him. Vegeta slowly opened his eyes and looked at her through his peripheral vision, before frowning at what she was offering him.

"What is that?" he asked impatiently.

"Just a beer. I brought you one. Alcoholic beverage," she clarified, in case he didn't know.

"I didn't ask for such a beverage, woman."

"No, you didn't, but you _are_ sitting in my backyard at two in the morning in complete darkness… seems like you could use one."

Vegeta finally turned his head to look over at her. His dark eyes took in the fatigue in her features. Bulma was wearing light blue jeans that were incredibly snug, he noticed, his eyes roaming over them appreciatively. She was barefoot, just like he was. She still had on her white coat from working in her lab, but it was opened and revealed a dark blue tank top underneath. Bulma offered him a smile as his eyes finally settled on the two perspiring glass bottles with bubbling golden liquid in her hands. One was around three quarters full, and the other was full. She was extending the latter to him.

He grunted and reached over to take it. Their fingers touched for a fleeting moment on the perspiring glass, and he immediately pulled the bottle away in response. He turned his gaze forward, away from her. The Saiyan twirled the bottle a little bit, before raising it to have a taste. It tasted fine enough; he took a few large gulps and soon, the bottle was already half-empty. He sighed in content and closed his eyes, relishing in the taste and in the silence of the night.

Until she broke it.

"Do you like it?"

He growled in exasperation. "Woman, if you're going to be here, then just sit there and shut the hell up before I lose my patience and finally kill you." Bulma gave a snort of disbelief, and he shot his dark, hard gaze over to her immediately. "What?"

"You won't," she said simply, stretching out on the grass so she was lying on her right side, facing him. She leaned her head into her hand, propping her elbow on the grass as she laid her bottle of beer on the grass with her other hand. She kept that hand on the top of the bottle, playing with it and rotating the bottom of the bottle along the grass.

"And why is that? Because we shared a kiss?" he asked sarcastically.

She snickered a little, her eyes on her bottle. "You only did that to get back at Yamcha. I'm not an idiot, Vegeta. I know it didn't mean anything to either of us. Like you said, both of our plans worked."

Vegeta stared at her for a few moments, before turning his gaze forward and closing his eyes. He offered a grunt in response and nothing more.

They stayed in silence for minutes on end, their silence only interrupted by one of them occasionally taking a drink from their respective beer bottle.

Vegeta broke the silence first.

"You were wrong with what you said to him, you know."

"What did I say?" Bulma asked absent-mindedly, already knowing who he was referring to.

"You said I have good in my heart. But you're wrong. I am evil as evil gets, woman," he said, falling back into his emotionless and guarded tone.

Bulma shifted her blue eyes from her bottle over to him. She could see his profile perfectly from where she was, and could see his facial features harden, his eyebrows drawing together as he frowned. She studied him for a few moments.

"You heard that, huh?"

"I hear many things."

"Then hear this, buddy. I meant what I said to Yamcha. I don't believe you're evil anymore. You're different now, Vegeta. It's obvious to anyone who pays attention."

He snorted. "Don't be foolish, woman. I am the same man I have always been. Evil to my very core. Hell, I could massacre everyone on this planet, and sleep well at night. I don't have one redeeming quality in me except my pride."

"Vegeta, if you were truly evil, you would've killed me already sometime during me torturing you with Justin Bieber and forcing you to wear that pink shirt you hate," she said in a light tone, snickering a little. "You wouldn't have caught me after your so-called flying lesson; you would've let me hit the ground and die. You would've never let me take you shopping. You wouldn't put up with my parents, _especially _my mother. You wouldn't have saved Gohan's life on Namek. Or Krillin's. Honestly, Vegeta. I could go on and on here-"

"Clearly," he mumbled.

She ignored him and continued, "I can see the good in you. Why can't you?"

One of his eyes twitched as he contemplated her words. Clearly, he was giving her the wrong impression. She thought she knew something about him now, but she knew nothing. And she never would. He scowled and took a deep breath.

It was time to set the record straight.

"I will give you this much," he finally said after a moment of thought. "I admired your bravery that day. I humored you, yes, I admit it. I went on the ridiculous trip to get you off my back once and for all. But hear me when I tell you this."

Without opening his eyes, Vegeta raised his left hand towards her, his palm facing her. Her eyes widened when his hand began to glow with a yellow aura as he gathered up energy for a lethal ki blast. The light illuminated both of them immediately as it pulsed from his hand.

"Do not ever get the wrong impression of who I truly am, woman. Your mate was right. I am a murderer and a monster, and your life means absolutely nothing to me," he said in a cold voice. "I could end your life right now, right here, and I wouldn't care in the least."

"So do it then."

His dark eyes immediately shot over to her at the challenge in her voice. Maybe it was the few bottles of beer she had had, or maybe it was the way that her breakup with Yamcha was making her feel, but she felt no fear even though he held the power to end her life within seconds. He saw that lack of fear in her eyes as she maintained eye contact with him.

"Fire away if you're the monster you say you are. You're evil to the core, right? That's what you said, right? So come on then. Do it, Vegeta."

"Don't tempt me," he sneered dangerously.

"So you're evil _and_ a coward to boot? Fancy that."

Vegeta fired.

Bulma yelped and sat up immediately as grass and dirt exploded around her. She covered her head as it all fell around her. There was darkness again as things settled down.

"Next time, I _won't_ miss," he warned. He picked up the bottle of beer and took a drink as Bulma took a deep breath to settle her nerves. He could feel her stare on him, but he just closed his eyes again and ignored her. He figured he had gotten his message across, when her voice cut into his thoughts.

"Well, why _did _you miss, tough guy?" She was not going to be deterred.

Vegeta released an exasperated hiss through his teeth, now beginning to wish he hadn't missed. "Woman, you are _truly_ trying my patience," he snarled.

"You can say whatever the hell you want, Vegeta," Bulma said evenly, stubbornly settling down into a crosslegged position on the grass as she eyed the hole he had blasted in the ground. It was only centimeters from where her elbow had been resting. She noted with disdain that her beer bottle had tipped over from the ki blast, and the remains had spilled into the grass. She sighed, and looked back up at him. "But I still don't think you're evil."

"You know nothing about me to make any kind of moral judgment," he snapped as he shot her a glare. "You don't know the things I've done in my life, woman."

_If you did, you sure as hell wouldn't be here right now, _he added silently.

"I don't know everything that you've done, but I do know what you're doing right now. You're helping us with the androids," she responded kindly. "That's all I need to know."

Vegeta rolled his eyes, before sighing in defeat. He couldn't kill her, but it was hardly for the reasons she thought. First and foremost, he needed her technical genius if he was going to have any chance to ascend. Secondly, she was one of Kakarot's closest friends and right now, he wasn't even close to matching the lesser Saiyan in strength. Blowing the woman away would put Kakarot's mercy to the ultimate test, and Vegeta didn't want to do that when he wasn't ready to defeat the younger Saiyan.

And even if he _could_ go blow-for-blow with Kakarot, the woman was giving him actual, bonafide sanctuary. He was safe there at Capsule Corporation, not having to wonder every day whether he was going to live to see the next day like he had practically his entire life. They gave him shelter, they gave him food, and for the most part, they left him in peace to train. Without Bulma, he would have nowhere else to go.

She was right. He couldn't kill her. Not because he had an ounce of _good _in him, but simply because he was stuck with her. For now.

But that sure as hell didn't mean that Vegeta didn't _want_ to kill her.

They sat in silence for a while longer, and this time she was the one to break it.

"You look good in that shirt, by the way."

Vegeta snorted in response and shook his head, smirking a little against his will. The woman might have been annoying as hell, but she sure had spirit and guts. He had to give her that.

Bulma smiled a little and got up to her feet. "You want another one?"

Vegeta eyed his almost empty beer bottle, before sighing. "Sure. Why not," he muttered, his shoulders slumping a little in defeat as he realized that she was just not going to leave him alone on this night. And if that was the case, then she could at least wait on him.

Bulma shouldn't have been feeling better after having her life nearly ended moments ago, but she couldn't help it. Something about Vegeta just radiated strength, and it was a bit contagious. She walked back across the grass over to him some moments later, holding two new bottles of beer.

The Saiyan Prince was looking up at the dark night sky, studying the Earth constellations, when she rested the side of the cold beer bottle against his shoulder. He snatched it and immediately took a drink. Bulma sat down right where she was, right behind him. The small hairs on the back of his neck stood up a bit with her proximity.

"So why are you out here at this hour anyways?" she asked. He closed his eyes and exhaled through his nostrils in annoyance. So much for peace and quiet.

"Thinking."

"About?"

"Things."

Bulma waited for more, but he didn't give any more. She sighed and fell into thought herself, and for the first time in weeks, she wasn't thinking about Yamcha. She was looking at him from behind, wondering what he was thinking about. Vegeta's head was leaned back a little, and she followed his line of sight to the sky. To the stars. She wondered how many of those galaxies he had been to. How many places and civilizations he had conquered during his time with Frieza.

"I'll listen to you, you know."

"Now what the hell are you talking about, human?" he barked out in agitation.

"You've got a lot on your mind."

"Oh really?" he asked mockingly. "Are you a psychic too?"

"I'm just saying, that you're not alone, Vegeta. Everyone needs someone and you're no different."

"I need no one. Attachments are for the weak."

"You're only saying that because you don't have anyone."

"Do you know why that is, woman?" he suddenly asked in a harsh tone as he looked over his shoulder at her. Bulma was startled by the fire burning in his eyes. Below the sudden blaze of rage, she could see clear pain there in the dark depths of his gaze.

"It's because anyone who has ever been close to me has died by my hand or by another's. My mother was murdered by Frieza's henchmen. My father was murdered by Frieza himself. Your precious and noble _Kakarot _killed my lifelong comrade Raditz. I killed my other lifelong comrade and personal guard, Nappa, like he was trash. I am destined to be _alone_. And that is FINE with me!" he snarled angrily.

Vegeta then turned back and faced forward, tension gripping his whole body. He took a deep breath and reined his temper in. Bulma tried to say something, but she didn't know what to say to him. His outburst had caught her off guard, and words were failing her now. He wasn't like her circuitry that she could figure out with ease.

Finally, he closed his eyes and breathed out, "Just…go, woman. You got me new garments. You got me a Senzu bean. You owe me nothing now. Your mate might be a weakling but he is no fool. Every word he said about me was true. Believe it."

"No, it wasn't," she immediately countered. "Yamcha doesn't know you."

"And what? _You_ do?" he snapped angrily. "You know nothing about me. Not a goddamn thing."

"You're good at physics. You can pick up languages like they're nothing. You hate the color pink. You like pancakes."

"Well now. You should win a galactic award for that marvelous insight into my personality," he remarked sarcastically.

"You served Frieza since you were a child, and the memories still haunt you," Bulma said gently, watching as he immediately tensed up. He momentarily stopped breathing. She was going into dangerous territory, and he was going to warn her but she continued, "You were clearly attached to your mothe-"

Before Bulma could get the "r" sound out, Vegeta had already gotten up, spun around, grabbed her by the neck and raised her up to her feet. He did it with frightening speed, his dark eyes burning with murderous rage. Bulma yelped a little, her hands on his hand that was squeezing her neck enough to just make his point.

_Damn it, crossed the line again, _she thought in dismay.

"Congratulations. You're right. I _was _attached to the queen. And that, _right there,_ is the whole fucking problem, woman," he snarled venomously. "The attachment I had for that bitch is the reason my life turned out the way it has. If it wasn't for the feelings I had for her, I would have died a long fucking time ago with my people, the way I _should_ have, and I would have NEVER been Frieza's!" he screamed in her face.

Bulma realized, too late, that she had definitely crossed the line when she saw tears in his eyes.

"Vegeta…" she gasped, trying to pull his fingers off her neck.

"I killed him! I was four years old and I ripped that lieutenant to fucking pieces for hurting my mother and I was in Frieza's sights ever since! That's the whole goddamn reason the bastard wanted me in the first place! Don't you see, you foolish woman? Don't you see that I can't…"

Vegeta shook his head a little and blinked, as if realizing suddenly where he was and what he was saying. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced his burning tears back, before releasing her. Bulma collapsed to the ground as soon as he did, gasping, one hand going to her throat.

He took a step back, cursing to himself under his breath. He took a deep breath and used his resilient discipline that had served him so well for so many years, and pushed the emotion away. Pushed it away until he felt nothing but numbness.

Vegeta eyed her on her knees before turning around and picking up his beer bottle that was now spilled. He picked it up and twirled the bottle, making the little bit left slosh a bit.

_Fucked up with her, again, _he thought absent-mindedly as he closed his eyes. He sighed deeply.

_Oh well… so be it._

He tilted the bottle back and drank its remains, waiting for her tears to come once again, and the stupid, weak, inevitable guilt that would accompany seeing them. This time though, if she proceeded to ignore him again, he would give in to it. It was high time that they went their own ways anyway.

Vegeta's eyes flew open and he almost spit the beer out when he suddenly felt Bulma hugging him tightly instead, her arms wrapping around his neck. His body immediately tensed up in shock as a wave of confusion ran through him. He had lost his temper with her again… and she was hugging him?

Bulma rested her forehead against the side of his neck.

"Frieza was evil, not you," she whispered. Her warm breath so close to his skin made him break into goosebumps and brought an involuntary shudder through his body. "You were just a little boy, Vegeta. She was your mother. It wasn't your fault."

Vegeta never realized how badly he had always wanted to hear those words until he was actually hearing them. Her words brought on an onslaught of emotions that suddenly and fiercely coursed through his body. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He couldn't do anything; couldn't put any words together to respond, couldn't push her away, could hardly breathe.

His father had ignored him for months after the death of his mother, furious with him for his emotional response for reasons the boy didn't understand until he was older. It wasn't until years later that Frieza told him the cold truth of things to make his point that emotional attachments were for the weak.

His point had been extremely well made.

Now here Bulma was, saying things to him that no one had ever _once_ told him. He closed his eyes and lowered his head a little, not returning her hug, but not pushing her away either. He just accepted this token of affection that no one had shown him since his mother had, so long ago. He inhaled her sweet scent and sighed as his body relaxed.

"You truly have a death wish, don't you, woman," he said, his voice empty and betraying nothing of what he felt.

"You can say whatever you want," Bulma said against him. He swallowed heavily when she relaxed against him, her body practically melting into his. Her soft body against his strong body. Vegeta shuddered again. "But you're not like Frieza, Vegeta."

A muscle flexed near his jaw. Bulma's simple words were more powerful than she would ever know.

Vegeta let her embrace him for minutes it seemed, relishing in the warmth of her body and her scent that he hadn't indulged in for the past month. He had almost forgotten how sweet and rich it was. It kept him rooted to the spot, there, in the darkness. With a frail little woman who had every reason to hate him, but didn't.

Didn't hate him. Didn't _fear_ him.

Oddly, it brought a strange sensation to his chest that he hadn't ever truly experienced:

Peace.

"I don't understand you," he finally admitted in a low voice.

Bulma laughed a little, and Vegeta relaxed even more when he heard the sound.

_Is this woman really one of these stupid, weak Earthlings…? _he wondered to himself curiously.

"I always stump men, what can I say," she teased as she slowly pulled away from him, bringing her hands down so they were on his shoulders. Bulma looked up at him and gave him the most dazzling smile he had ever seen from her yet. Vegeta was mesmerized by how bright her blue eyes were, and couldn't have looked away if he tried.

Bulma leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He blinked in surprise at that and raised an uncertain eyebrow.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Vegeta asked in a wary voice.

"Helping us with the androids."

The Saiyan sighed. He should have known.

"It's a cha-"

"Yeah, yeah, it's just a challenge, Earth is just pathetic little planet, you're evil and you don't care, and blah blah blah. I can still thank you," she told him, giving him a wink before yawning as she pulled away from him completely. Vegeta finally felt like he could breathe. He took a step back, away from her, but Bulma was already picking up her discarded beer bottle. She turned to him and smiled again, "You staying out here?"

Vegeta just stared at her, trying to figure her out. How could she be so… so _nice _to him? He had threatened her life twice that night and she was completely unfazed.

"Vegeta?"

He blinked, before frowning.

"Yes, I am. I was enjoying peace and quiet until _you _arrived, idiot woman," he snapped harshly out of pure instincts. He winced inwardly a bit at his own tone.

"I am not an _idiot, _Vegeta," she responded firmly, her blue eyes suddenly afire with indignant anger. She placed her free hand on her hip and was going to launch into a huge tirade over how she was the _last _person he could ever call an idiot, what with her unparalleled genius, when he cut her off before she could.

"Yes, you _are_ an idiot, woman. You are here, alone, with me of all people, in the darkness of night. _That_ qualifies you as an idiot."

"Hmm… I see," she said thoughtfully, her eyes softening with understanding as she looked at him. He was looking at her with such blatant distrust, his dark eyes suspicious and a little confused as he stared back at her. What else could she possibly expect from a man with the past that he had? Had he ever even had a true friend? He hadn't referred to Nappa or Raditz as friends…

But the pain in his eyes that she had caught a glimpse of when he mentioned their deaths said a lot more than his words.

"Well then, if that's your definition of an idiot, then I suppose I am indeed an idiot," she stated calmly. He just scoffed.

"Foolish woman."

"Stubborn Saiyan."

They stared at each other for a long time, both studying the other intently. His dark eyes stared right into hers as he tried to draw out any hint of hidden malice, fear, or hatred. Any sign at all that he could use against her to finally get rid of her. Bulma's blue eyes were strong as she stared back at him, searching his as she tried understanding him.

Vegeta had always had a powerful intuition that served him extremely well when he would go on his missions for Frieza. Nine times out of ten, he could tell a lie when he heard one. He was using every ounce of that intuition now as he studied Bulma for a hint of an end game. She was _too _nice to him, _too _understanding… _too _attractive… he couldn't shake the thought that maybe she was working for someone. Perhaps an old enemy that had (quite successfully) recruited this little woman to get close to him, knowing that circumstances prevented him from killing her. A plot that would only be revealed when she turned her back on him and left him to his death.

He found none of that in the depths of her blue eyes.

Finally, he narrowed his eyes and looked away first.

"Whatever," he muttered.

Bulma just laughed, "I'll bring you another beer so you can relax."

He ignored her as he took a seat again on the grass. He resumed his meditative posture and closed his eyes, shutting her out completely.

_What the hell was I thinking about before this demon woman came by? _he wondered angrily. _Super Saiyan transformation. Yes. That was it. How can I do it? How? What am I missing… if that idiot could do it so easily, then I should damn well be able to do it too. Just have to figure out what I'm missing…_

Vegeta reached up and grabbed the new bottle of beer before she put it against his shoulder again. Bulma lingered for a bit, not wanting to really leave, but she was finally starting to genuinely feel tired.

"If you ever want to talk about anything, Vegeta, I'm here to listen," she told him in a kind voice. He scowled but didn't respond. Bulma gave him one last glance and turned around to head back inside. Finally, she had been able to forget about Yamcha for a while, and for that, she was grateful as she closed the kitchen door behind her.

Vegeta finally released a deep breath when he heard the door close. He sat there for a long time, before opening his eyes and looking at the perspiring bottle in his hand. He stared at it, suddenly realizing that he had taken the drink from this woman he didn't fully know and drank it without a moment's hesitation. Just like he had done from the very first time she had offered him a meal after they returned from Namek. It went against his very nature to not scrutinize the contents more after past experiences, and yet he… he actually, genuinely,_ trusted _her enough to know she wouldn't hurt him like that.

_Well, I'll be damned… _he thought to himself in both disbelief and reluctant acceptance.

The prince then snickered, tilted his head back, and chugged the beer down.


	12. Hot Days

Vegeta released an infuriated howl of frustration before slamming one fist down into the control panel of the gravity room. Sparks instantly flew as the panel caved under the force of the blow, the gravity simulation shutting down with a slowing whir. He breathed heavily, sweat dripping off his body as he raised his other hand to his forehead, willing his rage to die down.

He wasn't a patient man. Never had been. Probably never would be. He wanted his ascension, and he wanted it _now. _He ached to have it and taste the power of the Super Saiyan transformation flowing through every vein inside of him. The fact that a low class Saiyan already had that elusive power was the worst part of it all, and it made him want to kill someone. And then that no-good little punk from the future who didn't even understand the significance of the power he so easily wielded, already a Super Saiyan as a teenager. A teenager, with the power he had been working for his whole life! It was as if he, the Prince of all Saiyans, had become the universe's punch line. Prince? He felt more like a joke the longer this went on.

Vegeta rubbed his eyes and sighed, almost flirting with the idea of going back and talking to Kakarot again. The idiot probably left out something vital that Vegeta was now missing. The question now was whether or not it was worth taking the hit to his pride to gain more knowledge from the younger Saiyan about the legendary transformation.

Almost instantaneously, the answer came to him.

It sure as hell was _not._

Not even ten seconds later, Vegeta barged into the kitchen of the compound, startling Bunny. She brightened at the sight of him as he settled his furious dark gaze on her.

"Oh my!" she said with a giggle. "I was just preparing some iced tea. Would you like a glass, Vegeta? A hard working man like yourself deserves it!"

He exhaled through his nostrils as she began pouring him a glass without waiting for his response.

"Woman, I have no desire for a bever-"

"Oh, nonsense, sweet boy," Bunny said with a bright smile as she went to put a few ice cubes into his glass. The fury on Vegeta's face melted into slight bewilderment as he watched her warily. _Sweet boy_? He was the fiercest warrior in the universe! Entire civilizations in the universe trembled at the mere sound of his _name, _for Kami's sake. Was the woman intoxicated on fumes? "It's so hot outside and you're already sweating. You don't want to get dehydrated!"

"Saiyans do not get _dehydrated _as easily as you pathetic humans. Now then, where the hell is your daughter?" he barked, scowling in agitation. She approached him and he instinctively took a wary step back from her, eyeing her as if she was an enemy.

Bunny giggled, "No need to be shy! You'll like my iced tea." He frowned and very hesitantly took the glass of what she was offering him. "And to answer your question, dear, Bulma is out in front getting some work done on her hover jet."

Vegeta just grunted, turning to head out to seek Bulma. He was more than a little eager to get the hell away from Bunny.

"Vegeta, dear, wait!"

He stopped walking, his body tense as if ready for battle. Bunny reached over and put something into his drink, and he sighed in annoyance.

"What the hell is this?" he growled, eyeing the blue contraption with suspicious eyes. "Some type of poison?"

"It's a straw, silly! You can't have my famous iced tea without a straw!"

Vegeta's eye twitched, his tremendous pride not allowing him to ask what the hell a "straw" was for. They had never put one in his drinks before. Mumbling under his breath about the stupid things humans do, he got out of the kitchen quickly, before the crazy blonde woman could do something else to him. That woman made him so uneasy.

Meanwhile, Bulma was furiously wielding her wrench, trying to get a stubborn screw out of her hover jet. She was almost done making all the reparations to her favorite vehicle after it was demolished during the skirmish between Yamcha and Vegeta. She was currently laying on her back on a roller, the hover jet levitating about two feet off the ground as she worked underneath it. It was a brilliantly hot day, which was fitting. The intensity of the heat in the air matched the intensity of her mood.

It had only been about an hour since she had gotten off the phone with Chi-Chi. Her friend had gone into town to get groceries, and Bulma was already bracing herself to hear the usual tirade about Goku and his lack of driving experience forcing Chi-Chi to go everywhere by foot. Instead, the heiress had been absolutely floored when Chi-Chi had told her that she had seen Yamcha strolling about with another woman. Here Bulma was, waiting for him to call her so they could amend their relationship, and the little prick had already moved on! She growled as she remembered the conversation, twisting her wrench a little harder than necessary.

"No good-" _–twist- _"-son of a-" –_twist_- "-bitch-"

"Woman," a familiar, gruff voice suddenly said, startling Bulma. She sighed, continuing to focus on what she was doing.

"What do you want, Vegeta? I'm a little busy right now!" she called out, not in the mood to figure _him _out too. In fact, she wasn't in the mood to deal with any man at the moment. Damn her idiot ex-boyfriend!

Vegeta scowled, feeling like a complete idiot as he stood next to the hover jet holding a glass of iced tea while he waited for this woman to show herself. He could only see her from the knees down. She was wearing something that looked like jeans, and they were rolled halfway up to her calves, exposing a nice amount of skin since she was barefoot. His dark eyes took in the view, noting her recent pedicure. He raised an eyebrow, having never seen a race do such a thing to their feet. Oddly, it didn't look that bad. He momentarily debated just standing there and watching, before he shook his head to snap out of it. He had work to do, damn it. He growled impatiently.

"The gravity room needs fixing. The control panel is broken. I order you to repair it at once," he demanded.

"And just _how _did the control panel break?" Bulma asked with a hint of agitation in her voice.

"What does it matter, woman!" Vegeta snarled, his thin patience ready to snap. The blonde haired woman had a point; it _was _hot as hell outside. Or maybe that was just his temper making it feel worse than it was. Regardless, he was getting pissed, and he wanted to get back to work. "The point is that it needs to be fixed immediately so I can resume my training!"

Bulma released an exasperated growl, tossing her wrench aside. She pushed herself so the roller she was laying on would roll her out from underneath the hover jet. Vegeta took a step back, the scowl disappearing from his face when he saw what she was wearing.

Or rather, what she _wasn't _wearing.

Bulma had her hair tied back with a red bandanna, keeping her hair out of her face while she worked. That, of course, wasn't what was capturing his full attention. What he currently found himself staring at was the snug, black sports bra that she was in. Her skin was deliciously exposed, beads of sweat trickling down her perfect stomach. His jaw went a little slack at the visual stimulus that was her perfect body, his blood suddenly burning up inside of him as he ached to have her and drink that perfection in. To feel that sweat against his own and tear off that top, and take her right there in the raw heat of the day…

Bulma slowly got up, wiping away her sweat from her forehead. Geez, how hot was it outside? She finally looked at Vegeta, and the heat grew exponentially… and it had nothing to do with the weather.

He was standing in front of her, bare chested and soaked in sweat. His muscles glistened in the light of the sun, accentuating his tan and his marvelous physique. She let her eyes trail down his body, forgetting for the moment her agitation with him when her gaze finally settled on his skin tight exercise shorts which were betraying exactly what he was thinking. She raised an eyebrow appreciatively and looked back up to his eyes. He hardly seemed aware of his state, his dark eyes burning with the heat of the moment as they roamed over her body before settling on her chest. Never had a man ever looked at her like Vegeta was doing at that moment, and she was floored by how his gaze was affecting her…

Bulma swallowed heavily, finding it hard to breathe. Her eyes once again drifted down to his shorts which were telling quite the story. It had been over a month now since she had last had slept with Yamcha, and her body was most definitely appreciating the wonderful, God-like body of the Saiyan standing in front of her.

And apparently, his body was appreciating hers too…

Empowered by that knowledge, she slowly took a step towards him. He visibly stiffened but didn't back away as she stepped up to him. He did look off to the side however, his face reddening.

"Put some clothes on, woman," he muttered, staring off at nothing in particular as his blush grew. "You are indecent."

Bulma snickered a little. "I'm wearing more than you, Vegeta," she teased. Vegeta shifted uncomfortably, eyeing her out of his peripheral vision as she came up close to him. He had a lot of self-discipline, but even he had his limits. Bulma's eyes finally settled on what he had in his hand, and she smirked. "Did you bring me a drink?"

Vegeta growled, highly offended with her remark. His anger made him turn and look back at her, right into her sparkling blue eyes. He forced himself to maintain eye contact with her and ignore the fact that she was standing extremely close to him. Kami, were they now in hell? Is that why it felt like he was suffocating in so much heat?

"The Prince of all Saiyans is no servant to a pathetic, weak human woman. If you want a drink, go get it yourself," he snapped. "This one is mine."

As if to prove his point, he brought the glass up and slowly began to drink the iced tea. The cold drink was welcomed, but what he really needed was a cold shower. Bulma smiled when he drank straight out of the glass, the straw hitting his nose as he simply ignored it.

"No, no," she said, reaching up and putting a hand on his. He tensed, his heart pounding in his chest at her touch as she lowered his hand. "You're supposed to use the straw. Like this."

Bulma gave him a flirtatious smirk, her anger gone and her playful streak in full force as she took the glass out of his hand. He stared at her as she raised the glass and put the straw into her mouth. With a look of pure seduction, she began to suck on the straw as one of his eyes began twitching rhythmically.

"So that's what the blasted thing is for," he mumbled, his dark eyes locked on her lips.

"Mhmm," Bulma agreed, drinking all of his iced tea. When she was done, she licked her lips and sighed in satisfaction. "Ah, much better. Thanks for the drink, dear prince. It was quite refreshing," she said with a smirk. Vegeta blinked in surprise, suddenly realizing what she had done.

"Fiend," he hissed angrily. "That drink was my consolation for dealing with your idiot mother."

"Well, you didn't stop me from having some, now did you?" Bulma asked, her smirk growing. Her eyes lowered to his shorts and her eyes darkened a little with barely repressed desire. "Seems like you were a bit too _distracted_ to pay attention."

Vegeta glanced down and finally became aware of his state, which was leaving little to the imagination with his skin tight spandex shorts. Blushing an impossible shade of red, he immediately spun on his heel and gave her his back. He cringed in embarrassment when she started laughing.

"It's just, you know…the weather…" he grumbled in a pathetic attempt to save his pride and dignity. He winced a little from how stupid he sounded, suddenly wishing he could disappear into the grass. If he still had his tail, it would be between his legs from how humiliated he was. "Nothing to do with _you, _woman, so don't flatter yourself," he added in a fierce growl.

"Mhmm… so what did you do to the gravity room this time?" Bulma asked, highly amused. She took out an ice cube from his glass. It was small enough. She tossed it into her mouth and began crunching on it.

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and grunted. "The control panel needs to be replaced entirely," he mumbled, still embarrassed. He didn't know what was worse – that she had had such an immediate effect over him, or that she had noticed.

Bulma sighed. "Sorry, Vegeta. But that's going to take some time and I don't have time for that right now. It will have to wait until later tonight."

He growled and looked over his shoulder, fixing her with a menacing glare. "You will make the necessary repairs at once. Understand?" he snarled.

"Now look here, buddy. I have to get my hover jet repaired and then I have to catch up on some lab work. I'm sorry that you can't keep things intact, but I can't drop everything for you," she told him, glaring right back at him.

"For all of your harping over me helping your pathetic race with these androids, you sure don't seem to want to make things easier," he snapped, his dark eyes locked with hers.

"Oh geez. I'll have it done by tomorrow morning. Take a day off. It'll help that temper of yours," Bulma said as she rolled her eyes. She walked past him, digging out another ice cube from his glass as he furiously stalked behind her.

"Tomorrow morning!" he yelled, his dark eyes scanning the skin of her back that was glistening with sweat. Oh, how his fingers itched to touch that skin. He clenched his fists, internally berating himself for having such thoughts. What in the world was wrong with him? "That is completely unacceptable, woman!"

"Tough shit, Vegeta!" Bulma shot back. "Maybe you should be more careful and not break things that are working fine. Ever think about that?"

"What the hell am I supposed to do for the rest of the day!" he yelled from behind her as they walked back into the compound together. "Bake cookies with your mother?"

"Oh my, that would be splendid!" Bunny's voice suddenly cut in from the kitchen. Bulma and Vegeta both stopped walking. The blue haired heiress looked over her shoulder at him with a smirk. That smirk only grew at the brief look of terror that passed over his features.

"Well there you go," Bulma said smugly. "I personally like chocolate chip the best."

Vegeta quickly erased his terrified look. He shot Bulma a fierce glare. "I hope your death is a painful one," he sneered at her. He then brushed past her and marched upstairs towards his bedroom, Bulma's bright laughter following him every step of the way. Vegeta slammed the door shut to his bedroom and immediately headed to his bathroom for a much-needed cold shower.

Bulma couldn't get rid of the huge smile on her face as she walked into the kitchen. Bunny giggled at the sight of her.

"What has you so happy, dear? Did you make up with Yamcha?" she asked brightly.

Bulma blinked in surprise at the question. Yamcha? She had completely forgotten the man even existed. Her exchange with Vegeta had managed to erase her foul mood and had erased every thought of her ex-boyfriend from her mind. Just like the prince had effortlessly done when they had their late night exchange not so long ago… Bulma swallowed a bit, wondering what that meant. Sure, she was starting to like Vegeta and was starting to understand him better, but she still, deep down loved Yamcha…

Right?

Bulma was brought out of her thoughts when Bunny took the empty glass out of her hand and replaced it with a full one. "Is everything all right, dear?"

"Yeah, everything is fine," Bulma said, looking down at the glass. At the sight of the straw, she couldn't help the smile that spread over her face and the butterflies in her stomach. Vegeta was attracted to her; there was absolutely no denying that after today. It brought an excitement into her that she had never truly experienced before. The drop-dead handsome Saiyan prince was attracted to _her_! It was beyond flattering.

The question now was, what was she going to do about it? Was there anything _to _do about it? She highly doubted he was the relationship type…

Bulma's eyes widened at her own train of thought. Her and Vegeta in a _relationship_? She must have been outside in the heat far too long to be having such ridiculous thoughts. Absent-mindedly, she twirled the straw around in her glass of iced tea.

"No news from Yamcha?"

Bulma rolled her eyes, "No. Even if he came crawling back, I wouldn't take him back this time. He blew it and I'm moving on," she stated matter-of-factly, raising the straw to her mouth to take a drink.

"Moving on to Vegeta, dear?"

Bulma almost choked on her iced tea, before blushing as she looked at Bunny. "Mom!" she hissed in exasperation. "Don't say that so loud, he has really good hearing you know!"

Bunny raised one hand to her mouth and giggled. "Oh my. Is there anything that handsome boy can't do? Why, I bet with his strength and your looks, you two would give me and your father such wonderful grandbabies!"

Bulma stared at her mother in shock, trying to form a rebuttal but unable to sputter two words together. Grandkids? Her and _Vegeta? _Sure, he was attracted to her and all… and the feeling was definitely mutual… but geez! He was _Vegeta!_

"Here you go, dear," Bunny said brightly, handing Bulma another glass of iced tea. "Take this to that handsome boy of yours. Don't want him to start looking at other girls! Have to keep his interest on you," she said with a wink as Bulma's face reddened in embarrassment.

"Mom! There is nothing going on between me and Vegeta!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, I see," Bunny said with another giggle. "You're both in denial. How adorable!"

Bulma was at a loss for words. Not knowing what else to do, she immediately turned and left the kitchen, her face still crimson red. Try as she could though, she couldn't get her mind off of her mother's words.

Her and Vegeta? All she wanted to be was his friend. She wanted to get him to open up to her and trust her. She didn't want to bear his children! What a ridiculous idea.

She suddenly realized that she still had an extra glass of iced tea in her hands. Sighing, she decided she might as well bring it to him. But first, she was going to throw a shirt on…

Some time later, she was standing in front of his door. For some reason, her mother had thrown her completely off. She was nervous now, and that's why she was standing there like an idiot instead of knocking. Honestly! She had never been nervous around Vegeta before. Damn her mother sometimes. Bulma took a deep breath before raising one hand and knocking.

"Is the gravity room fixed yet?" he growled from inside. His raspy voice sent a shiver down her spine, and she swallowed heavily. His voice was like a sexual onslaught on her nerves. How had she never heard that before? Bulma sighed and shook her head, not wanting to think of him like that.

_Damn mother for putting thoughts into my head!_

"No, not yet-"

"Then go away, woman," he snapped. She instinctively narrowed her eyes at his words, her anger making her forget her sudden nervousness.

"I brought you a drink, you jerk," she shot back.

"Is it poisoned?" he responded sarcastically.

"No, but if you don't want it, then I'll just drink it myself."

"Yes, you do that. You consume a lot anyways."

Bulma blinked, before growling furiously. "And just what is THAT supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"It means you could stand to do some training of your own."

Bulma was fuming and was about to retort, when she suddenly stopped to analyze his tone. His hostility had dropped, and with her own anger subsided, she could make out the teasing in his voice. Smirking a little, she decided she could play his game.

"You sure didn't have a problem with my body when we were outside," she teased.

A few seconds later, the door opened and she was met with Vegeta's fiery dark gaze. He was freshly showered and wearing a simple white t-shirt with dark blue pants. For reasons she couldn't quite pin down, his nice and clean smell made her stomach tie up in knots.

"We will _not _speak of that again. Understand?" he growled, deep down thankful that she was dressed properly now. With his bed so close by, his self control would have likely snapped if she had come to his bedroom dressed like she was earlier.

Bulma gave him a smile and handed him the glass of iced tea. "Sure, sure. Anyways. Here. I drank yours earlier so here's another one."

His eyes lowered to the drink in her hand. He frowned, having honestly expected that she was bringing him a beer when she mentioned a drink. A brief, almost imperceptible look of disappointment passed through his eyes when he saw that it was iced tea.

"What's wrong? Did you want a beer instead?" Bulma asked. She was studying him so intensely that she caught the flash of his disappointment when he looked at the drink she was offering him.

Vegeta's dark eyes instantly shot up to hers, genuine surprise on his face. He opened his mouth to respond, but didn't know what to say. Bulma's smile grew.

"I'll tell you what. How about I bring you a beer and some books that you can read to pass the time while I fix the control panel in the gravity room?"

Vegeta instinctively went to object, but then remembered that he was bored out of his mind. He had started making some sketches in his notebook to pass the time, but it wasn't enough to curb the boredom that was consuming him. He might as well learn a thing or two about the planet he was living on. He didn't have anything better to do with the gravity simulator not working, except start to reminisce on things he would rather not remember.

He grunted. "Bring good books," he ordered gruffly. He shot her a glare and then slammed the door shut in her face. Bulma blinked in surprise, before sighing and rolling her eyes, turning to head to her family's impressive library. He was so rough around the edges sometimes and could be such a jackass…

Still though. He _had _accepted her offer. She smiled a little at that.

Around twenty minutes later, Bulma had selected several literature classics that she thought he would enjoy. She was holding them all under one hand, a cold bottle of beer for him in her other hand. She knocked lightly with the hand holding the beer, and got no response. Curious now, she dropped her hand to the doorknob and gave it a try, happily surprised to find that it was unlocked. She poked her head in.

"Vegeta?"

Vegeta was standing over the desk in his room, glaring down at the open notebook in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest. He was looking at it with such intensity that it made her hesitate for a second, before slowly coming in. He gave her no acknowledgment, but she knew that he was well aware of her presence.

Slowly, Bulma made her way over to him. He tensed when she came near, but otherwise didn't say anything to her. He didn't even glance over at her as she came to stand next to him. Bulma placed the books she had brought down next to his notebook and put the bottle of beer next to the books.

She finally looked at him, studying his profile carefully. He narrowed his eyes under her scrutiny but didn't say anything.

"Everything okay?"

"Fine," he said in his gruff tone. "You can leave now."

Bulma frowned and followed his line of sight down to his notebook, ignoring his request. She could read his handwriting from where she was. Vegeta shifted uncomfortably when he saw what she was doing, his jaw set angrily. His pride was screaming at him to make her leave immediately, but a mild curiosity kept him rooted to the spot. He maintained his silence, observing her with wary attention out of the corner of his eye.

Bulma's eyes widened when she realized what he had written down. In extensive detail was the entire blow-for-blow exchange of the battle he had with Goku when he first arrived to Earth. She looked back at him, surprise and questions in her eyes.

Vegeta scowled deeply and looked away. He was ashamed and wishing that he had adhered to his pride instead of letting her look at what he had written down. "I thought that if I wrote it down, it would stop replaying itself in my mind," he finally admitted in a low grumble.

Bulma suddenly was conflicted between her friendship with Goku and her… her what exactly? Friendship with Vegeta? She knew that's what she wanted with him, but did they have it already?

They must have had _something _because she was suddenly compelled to ease his discomfort…

"You know, you really shouldn't think about that fight so much," she finally said. He instantly looked at her, and she could see the growing fury in his eyes, so she immediately continued, "Goku knew in advance that you were coming. Everyone did and they worked hard to prepare for you and Nappa."

Vegeta frowned at her. "Do not make excuses for my defeat, woman. I am a Saiyan Elite, and he is a third class clown." He shifted his gaze down to his notebook, eyeing it with hatred that was reserved for the only remaining full-blooded Saiyan left. "I will have my revenge."

"Vegeta… do you not realize that it took Goku, Krillin, Gohan, a sneak attack from Yajirobe, and Gohan transforming to finally stop you?" Bulma asked him gently.

The hatred suddenly left Vegeta's eyes as he turned to look at her, a hint of confusion in the depths of his dark gaze. He contemplated for a moment, feeling something tighten in his chest at the way she was looking at him. Why did she always look at him like that?

"Why are you telling me this?" he finally asked, trying his best to keep his confusion at bay. "They are your friends, and I fully intended to kill them all."

"I know that they're my friends, and I love them very much. But was anything that I said untrue?" Bulma asked, studying his eyes closely and seeing the confusion there.

"Defeat is defeat, no matter how you define it," he grumbled, looking back down at the play-by-play he had written out. The play-by-play that repeated over and over in his mind. He lowered his arms to his sides and clenched his fists tightly. His most humiliating defeat, if only because of who it was that he lost to. "You cannot understand. I am the prince of my people. If we still had a home planet, and they knew of my defeat to a third-class soldier…" his voice trailed off in deep shame as he looked away.

"All I'm saying is that you're too hard on yourself," Bulma told him, touching his arm. He stiffened when she did, keeping his eyes away from her, but he didn't pull away. She trailed her hand down until she took his hand in hers. "It took everything everyone had to stop you. You're quite the handful, you know." Bulma smiled a little when his fist loosened and he allowed her to actually take his hand. She gave it a light squeeze and stepped a little closer to him. "Try not to think too much about it. It'll consume you."

Vegeta finally turned his head a little towards her, giving her a wary look. He studied her for a few moments, before frowning. "You do know what once this threat of the androids has passed, I will challenge and defeat Kakarot once and for all, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. You two will fight, like the typical men you are. I'll make sure I bring popcorn for me, and lots of Senzu beans for the both of you," she teased.

Vegeta's frown only deepened, before he finally pulled his hand away from hers. "You will be nowhere near the battle, woman. I remember the last time you watched me fight and it won't happen again."

Bulma raised an eyebrow in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

"On Namek when I battled Zarbon. You were there cheering that hideous freak on. I do not need you there cheering Kakarot on as well," he sneered.

Bulma's next words tumbled out before she could stop them.

"Who said I would cheer for Goku?"

Vegeta instantly looked at her in shock, and Bulma looked a little surprised herself at what she had said. She swallowed heavily, realizing it was too late to take the words back. They were out there, real and hanging in the air now.

And, slowly, it dawned on her that she didn't really want to take the words back.

"You… would actually cheer for _me_ in a battle against Kakarot?" he asked, completely dumbfounded.

"Well, sure, why not? So long as you didn't kill him… Goku would have the whole world on his side. One person cheering you on wouldn't make that much of a difference, now would it?" Bulma teased with a wink.

Vegeta stepped closer to her, and her heart began pounding again as he stared at her with intense scrutiny. "Little, weak human woman, what makes you think that the Prince of all Saiyans needs _your_ support?" he asked in a low, heated tone, his eyes boring into hers.

Bulma refused to look away, standing her ground though he was extremely close to her now. "I already told you, Vegeta. Everyone needs someone. You're no different."

"Foolish woman," he mumbled, leaning in so close that his nose was now right next to hers, his lips hovering right over hers. He closed his eyes and breathed in her delicious scent, his need from earlier coming back to him in a hurry. "I need no one. Least of all _you._"

"Stubborn Saiyan, _everyone _needs someone," Bulma said as she exhaled, a shudder going through her body. She already knew that he was a good kisser, and her body sure as hell remembered that fact…

"Son, did you say you wanted a deadbolt lock on your door or a – oh dear," Dr. Briefs said, chuckling nervously at the scene he walked in on. Bulma and Vegeta immediately parted, both of them blushing simultaneously. Vegeta growled, wondering if his eternal embarrassments would ever cease as he glared at Bulma's father.

"What do you want, old man?" Vegeta demanded angrily. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

"Um, I should probably get to work," Bulma said, drowning in her embarrassment and feeling very much like a teenager with her father's reaction.

Vegeta shot his gaze over to her, frowning. "You had better fix that gravity room by morning, woman. I won't fall behind because of you."

Bulma looked back at him and sighed in exasperation. "I will do it when I have time, Vegeta. Now just read your books, and wait until I tell you in the morning that it's ready."

He growled and looked away angrily. "Whatever, Earthling woman," he muttered.

"Well, I didn't mean to kill the mood," Dr. Briefs said, observing the two flustered individuals standing before him. "I just wanted to install the lock you asked for, Vegeta. But I could come back another time if you two would rather, erm, be alone…"

"No!" Bulma and Vegeta both snapped at the same time. They glanced at each other and both simultaneously looked away.

"I want the lock installed to my door immediately, old man," Vegeta ordered gruffly.

"I have work to do," Bulma said, ignoring the subtle smile her father was giving her.

She brushed past her father and walked down the hallway, finally letting out a deep, relaxing breath once she was in the clear. What in the world had almost happened there? If Vegeta had actually leaned in and kissed her, she… she wouldn't have done a damn thing to stop him, she suddenly realized. Bulma took another deep breath, figuring that it was just how attractive he was and the fact that she hadn't been with Yamcha in a while now. It couldn't possibly be anything more than that…

Right?


	13. Perhaps

_Vegeta rolled them over so he was on top. He had allowed her to have her little moment of fun, but now he was going to take control. Bulma reached up, putting one arm around him and pulling him closer to her. He sighed and surrendered to her delicious heat as he ravished her naked body with his tongue… _

"Vegeta…"

_Yes, just like that. Vegeta smirked against her skin as she arched up against him. Soon, very soon, he was going to make her scream his name…_

"Hey, Vegeta?"

"…unnngh…Bulma…" he moaned in his sleep, his face buried in his pillow as he breathed heavily into it. He unconsciously gripped the pillow tighter, rhythmically rocking his hips against his mattress.

Outside of his bedroom door, Bulma blinked in surprise. Vegeta using her actual name was extremely unexpected. He had only actually used it once, and that was when he was half-coherent after the gravity room accident.

Something about the way he said her name just now was making her stomach tingle…

"Yeah, it's me…um…I just wanted to tell you that I fixed the control panel to the gravity simulator. You can train in there now."

Bulma lingered to hear his response, but she could only make out a low groan. Suddenly, it occurred to her that he might be in serious pain. She leaned in closer against the door, pressing her ear against it. "Hey, are you okay in there?" she asked in a worried voice. She instinctively tried opening his door, only to find it locked. Growling in frustration, she knocked louder. "Vegeta?"

Vegeta's eyes suddenly snapped open and he rolled over so fast that he got tangled up in his own sheets. He wound up falling right off the bed and ungracefully crashing to the floor. He instantly sat up, breathing heavily and looking around in confusion.

_What the hell? _

"Vegeta! What is going on in there?" Bulma cried out on the other side of his door, truly concerned now that she heard a loud thud. Vegeta glanced over at the door and growled in agitation. He couldn't even get away from her when he slept!

"GO AWAY, WOMAN!" he yelled, getting up to his feet. He threw the sheets angrily back on the bed, before running both hands up into his hair, his heart still pounding from his very vivid dream. Looking down at himself, he groaned, realizing he was going to need another cold shower. He lowered both hands so they were over his face.

Bulma growled and put her hands on her waist. "Now you listen here, buddy! You're not going to talk to me like that in my own home!" she yelled at the door. "I got up early to fix the gravity simulator for you and you ought to be grateful, you jerk!"

"Good, you fixed it. Now LEAVE! ME! _ALONE!"_ he screamed at the top of his lungs.

"ARGH!" she shrieked, tossing her hands up in exasperation. She furiously spun on her heel and stalked down the hallway. "Why the hell do I even _bother_! Pig-headed, no-good, arrogant, low-down, obnoxious…"

Vegeta heard her insults trail off as she angrily marched away from his bedroom. He sighed in relief that there was distance between them now, rubbing his eyes as he headed into his bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him in frustration.

Ten seconds later, the cold water hit him. He closed his eyes under the showerhead, grateful for the welcomed reprieve the cold sensation gave him. Leaning his head forward, he rested his forehead against the cool tiles of the shower wall, letting the water run through his hair.

_What is she doing to me…?_

Growling, Vegeta leaned back a little before hitting the wall with his forehead. The tiles cracked from the force, but he was completely unfazed, scowling as he thought of Bulma. Since she left his room the day before when her father interrupted them, all the prince could think about was _her_. The way her breath felt against his lips. The way her eyes almost turned smoldering when she saw him leaning in closer to her. How she would look underneath him…

He was attracted to her…he wanted her. He couldn't deny it anymore even if he wanted to. Never in his entire life had he _ever_ wanted a woman more than he wanted the blue haired heiress.

But what the hell could he do about it? It was clear from the existence of Kakarot's brat that humans and Saiyans were genetically compatible. He just could not take the chance that he could possibly be a father. He had resolved a long, long time ago that he would _never _have a child. To disgrace his royal lineage with polluted blood would be shameful. To have such a strong attachment in his life would be completely unacceptable.

To look into the eyes of his own child and see hatred grow and manifest itself towards him would be utterly unbearable.

He had avoided the whole damn problem before by just killing women after he used them, either directly or through a planetary purge. None were left alive and he never had to worry about it. He had enough on his plate in those days, struggling to live long enough just to see the next day. He had no time for that emotional bullshit.

But he couldn't do that to Bulma.

Not to her.

Vegeta snarled in frustration and hit his head against the wall again, harder this time. The crack in the tiles now spread all the way up to the ceiling. Reaching down to the controls, he turned the water temperature as cold as it would go and sighed.

_Should've destroyed this goddamn planet when I had the chance…_

* * *

Later that day, Bulma rolled her eyes as she spun in her wheeled leather chair in her office. She paused briefly to look a small mirror she had put up on the wall behind her, checking her hair while she listened to a supplier on speakerphone and all his excuses he was making for being late on a delivery. The heiress raised one hand up to her hair, admiring the recent work done on it. Having grown tired of the afro look that Vegeta had called _a deranged nest straight from the bowels of hell, _she had actually spent a nice, shiny penny that morning to get her hair done. It was now hanging down in loose, wavy curls that hung down a few inches below her shoulders. She smiled at the new look, and deep down, was hoping Vegeta noticed.

Not that she actually _cared _what the Saiyan thought of her hair. He was prince of all jackasses for how he had yelled at her that morning, when all she had wanted to do was tell him that he could use the gravity simulator again. The nerve of that man…

Well… maybe Bulma was just a little curious to hear his opinion on her new hairdo.

Just a _little_.

"Yes, I understand that perfectly well," she finally said in a professional tone, fanning out one hand in front of her as she checked her nails. "I understand your schedule demands, but _you _also have to understand that we had an agreeme—excuse me for one second, David." She pressed a button on her office phone. "Yes, Marie?"

"Ms. Briefs," her secretary said, "Mr. Yamcha is here to see you."

Bulma raised an eyebrow in intrigue. So her ex-boyfriend was still alive…interesting.

"I'm on an important phone call. I don't have time for visitors right now."

"He says he's willing to wait, ma'am," Marie said into her headset, gazing over at the man standing in front of her with a bouquet of roses. Yamcha gave her a grateful smile and a whispered _thank you_. "How much longer do you think you'll be on your phone call?"

"A few years," Bulma said evenly, before pressing a button to go back to her call. She went back to slowly spinning in her chair. "Sorry, David. Anyways. We had an agreement that the parts would be in by today at the latest, did we not?..."

Marie sighed and looked over at Yamcha. "Sorry, but she's really busy today and she doesn't have time to see you."

Yamcha frowned. "Well, has she taken a lunch break yet?"

"She just got back in from lunch about twenty minutes before you got here," Marie told him, pity in her eyes as she regarded the handsome, sweet man in front of her. He was clearly in love with her boss, and as far as she could tell, Bulma wasn't missing him in the least.

Yamcha walked over and took a seat on a folding chair near the secretary's desk. A stubborn look came over his features as he held his bouquet in his lap. "I'll just sit here and wait then. She has to come out eventually."

"Actually, she's been working really late these days-"

"Has she?" Yamcha asked, smiling with hope when Marie nodded to him. Bulma always lost herself in her work whenever she was stressed out. That meant that she was probably not dealing with their breakup well, which meant that she probably still wanted him. "That's alright. I'll wait as long as it takes."

Marie gave him another pitiful look, before shrugging and turning to her laptop to check her emails.

Meanwhile, outside in the gravity chamber, Vegeta was sitting on the floor with his arms stubbornly crossed over his chest. No gravity simulation was currently engaged. He was just sitting there, drumming his fingers on his right hand against his left bicep, glaring at the six fried bots in front of him and deciding what to do about them.

Well, he _knew _what he had to do, but he didn't want to see the demon woman! Growling, his drumming sped up as he continued staring at the bots. He would need new ones, and Bulma worked five times faster than the old man. He supposed he could always tell the blonde woman to pass the message along to her daughter, but that woman was so damn scatterbrained. Vegeta had more faith in a wild bird emerging from the grass, flying into Bulma's office, and squawking the message out that he needed new replacement bots than he did in Bulma's mother.

Vegeta frowned and gathered up his resolve. This was just a business transaction, nothing more, nothing less. He would go, tell her what to do, and then promptly leave. No harm, no foul. Nodding to himself now, he got up and left the gravity room to go change first. There was no way he was going to wear his exercise shorts around her again, if he could help it…

About a half-hour later, Yamcha was busy texting another girl on his phone to pass the time. He smirked a little at the scandalous things she was telling him, shaking his head. He was in the midst of responding back that he was taken, happily in love with Bulma Briefs, when the doors that led to the little lobby area were violently kicked open.

Marie shrieked and Yamcha instantly stood up, putting his cell phone away in his back pocket as Vegeta casually strolled in. Now dressed in beige khaki pants and a dark blue polo shirt, the prince was holding all six fried bots in a massive pile in his arms. The pile was as high as his hair, but he maintained perfect balance as he came to a stop. He immediately shifted the large pile in his arms and looked over at Yamcha, frowning at him. He hadn't seen the human since the day he broke up with the woman, and Vegeta couldn't exactly say that he missed the weakling's presence.

"Vegeta," Yamcha growled. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Vegeta eyed him up and down, before settling his dark gaze on the bouquet of flowers in Yamcha's hands. He snorted at the sight of them. "Hmph. Like _that_ is going to work," he said sarcastically.

"Why don't you mind your own goddamn business!" Yamcha yelled, furious with this arrogant bastard. He was practically the entire reason for all of his problems with Bulma.

Vegeta's dark eyes grew even darker with barely veiled hatred. "Human, I suggest you watch your tone when you address me. The woman isn't here to save you this time," he warned in a cold voice.

Yamcha's face twisted into a threatening scowl, but he fell silent. Vegeta gave him a menacing sneer in response, internally debating if the pleasure of killing this human would actually be worth the resulting drama. He was starting to lean towards the side of killing Yamcha once and for all when Marie very nervously cleared her throat. The prince immediately shot his dark gaze over to her, scowling at her. He raised an eyebrow, silently ordering her to speak.

"Um," Marie sputtered out, completely intimidated by the man in front of her. Something about his gaze was so intense, that she had to look down at her desk, pretending like it was suddenly very interesting. "Did you want to see someone?" she asked meekly.

"The blue haired demon woman," Vegeta growled. "Is she in her place of business?"

"Yes, but she—sir, you can't, we just got the doors replaced!" she shrieked, right as Vegeta was lifting his right leg to kick open the heavy doors to enter the actual labs. He exhaled impatiently through his nose, glaring over at the terrified secretary.

"Well how the hell am I supposed to get in then!" he snapped angrily.

"I…I will try to call her again," Marie said, immediately pressing the button to connect to Bulma's office.

"Bulma is busy and doesn't want to see anyone right now," Yamcha said snidely, taking his seat again as he glared at the Saiyan. "Looks like you're out of luck, Vegeta."

"You know, I haven't forgotten your little cheap shot the last time we met…" Vegeta stated in a calm, almost too calm voice as he slowly turned to look pointedly at Yamcha. Yamcha gulped and looked down to the floor, making Vegeta snort in amusement. "Coward," he muttered under his breath.

"Ms. Briefs," Marie said nervously. "Um, there's a Mr. … um…"

"Prince Vegeta of the Saiyans," Vegeta said, his voice booming with pride. Yamcha rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut. Marie blinked in surprise, but didn't dare question the short-tempered flame-haired man.

"Um, Mr. Prince Vegeta of the Saiyans would like to see you… oh… yes, right away, ma'am." Marie pressed a button and looked at Vegeta almost in shock. "Uh… she said you can go right in."

"WHAT!" Yamcha yelled, immediately getting up on his feet. "I thought she was busy all day!"

Vegeta shot him a smug, triumphant smirk. "Looks like she is just too busy for weak, pathetic humans. Perhaps you should pick out more flowers from your garden?" He then threw his head back and laughed loudly as he was buzzed in and the doors opened for him. Yamcha watched the prince practically strut inside with all of his bots, his face reddening with fury as the doors closed behind Vegeta.

Bulma was typing away on her laptop, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach at the knowledge that Vegeta was coming over to see her. No doubt, something was wrong with the gravity room again. It was the only time he ever actually willingly seeked her out. Heaven forbid he actually stop training for a few minutes just to say hello. Deep down, though, she truly admired how driven he was. He was passionate about his work and he wanted to be the best. She could definitely relate to that.

She clicked send on an e-mail when Vegeta kicked the door open to her office, scaring the living hell out of her. Bulma released a deep breath, one hand over her racing heart as she glared at him. She couldn't see his face from the huge pile of fried bots he was carrying in his arms as he walked on inside.

"It's called _knocking, _you know," she informed him sarcastically. "You should try it sometime."

Vegeta grunted and dropped all of the bots right on the floor. They landed with loud clanking, making Bulma sigh. Instinctively, Vegeta crossed his arms and adopted a neutral expression on his features as he stared at her. Right away, he noticed her different hairstyle. He observed it nonchalantly, his eyes and his facial expression guarded and giving absolutely nothing away to her.

Bulma slowly closed her laptop, watching his eyes as he took in her hair. She raised an eyebrow, trying to read what he thought, but he wasn't letting her in this time.

"Do you like it?" she finally asked him, offering him a hesitant smile. "I had it done this morning."

"Hn," he grunted, drinking her beauty in with his eyes. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. "It's an improvement," he finally said in his gruff tone, lowering his eyes to the bots at his feet as he cleared his throat, not seeing the huge smile spreading on her face. "I came to bring these to you. I will need replacements immediately. Faster and stronger."

Bulma stood up and leaned over her desk to inspect the damage, unaware that with her white lab coat open and her snug black halter top on, she was giving Vegeta an eyeful of cleavage. He stared in appreciation, before instantly looking off to the side when she raised her eyes back to him.

"I could probably save two of them. I should have you replacements for the others by tomorrow night," she told him, taking a seat again.

"Fine," he muttered. "I will expect the new ones at that time. They had _better _be ready by then," he growled threateningly.

"Your wish is my command, Mr. Prince Vegeta of the Saiyans," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She turned back to her laptop, seeing that she had a new email. Pulling it closer to her, she immediately began to read over the new message.

Vegeta sneered at her and was turning to finally leave when something caught his eye on her desk that froze him on the spot. His eyes narrowed, his attention fully held by the object that was at the corner of her desk, barely peeking out under some paperwork and schematics.

Bulma glanced up, noticing that he was actually walking around the pile of bots on the floor and coming over to her desk. His dark eyes were completely transfixed on something that was on her desk… her eyes suddenly widened when she glanced over and saw what he was looking at.

"So _you_ are the one who made it," Vegeta stated in a low, detached tone that sent a chill down Bulma's spine. He reached out and grabbed the item, holding it like a precious stone as he brought it closer to observe it. "This is what the brat used to find my last dragon ball."

Bulma's eyes went from the dragon ball radar to his eyes. He was staring down at the radar in his hands, frowning thoughtfully. Bulma took a deep, shaky breath, cursing herself for not having put the damn thing away while cleaning out her lab. Now she had practically gift-wrapped the dragon balls to Vegeta, and she was now praying like hell that her assessment of him was right. She watched him anxiously, but he was just staring down at the radar, his brows furrowed.

"Do…do you still want immortality?" she asked in a cautious tone, standing and slowly walking around her desk to him.

A muscle in his jaw flexed at the question, his eyes appearing to harden as he stared at the device in his hands. With this device, he could have anything he wanted. Anything at all…

"No," Vegeta finally answered. "Frieza is no more, and I have already died once. I have lost the desire for immortality."

"Were you afraid of dying before?" Bulma asked curiously, now standing next to him. He hardly seemed aware of her proximity.

Vegeta snorted. "I was only afraid of dying before killing Frieza and having my revenge." He scowled at the thought that he didn't even really get that. Frieza had beaten him senseless and then killed him in front of the Earthling warriors like he was nothing but a worthless insect. Then to add insult to injury, the tyrant had fallen at the hands of a low class Saiyan, who went on to become the Super Saiyan of legend. Just failure after failure after failure…

"So if you don't want immortality… then what do you want, Vegeta?" Bulma asked him gently, studying his profile. She watched the way he seemed to get lost within his own thoughts, and she bit her lip. How she ached to have him just open up to her. Standing so close to him, she could practically feel the intensity of his thoughts.

He stayed silent for a long time. Seconds that felt like hours to Bulma.

"I would wish to become a Super Saiyan," he finally admitted. His scowl deepened as soon as he said the words. "But that would be cheating, and I won't cheat my way to my ascension."

"That's not a good wish anyways, since it'll happen eventually." Vegeta instantly looked over at her, raising an eyebrow, silently questioning her with his intense gaze. Bulma gave him a smile. "I mean, you _are _the Prince of all Saiyans, aren't you?" she asked him teasingly.

He smirked at her, snorting a little in amusement. "Damn right, woman," he said in a cocky tone. Bulma felt the butterflies in her stomach again when she saw the way his eyes warmed at her words. She inched a little closer to him.

"So if you don't want immortality, and you don't want your ascension, what do you want, Vegeta?" Bulma asked. She bit her bottom lip, looking for a specific answer.

Vegeta was looking back down again, not seeing the way she was looking at him right then. He shrugged indifferently, frowning as he rotated the radar in his hands. "Nothing, I suppose," he finally said. Bulma sighed, her smile disappearing and melting away into disappointment.

"Guess there's nothing to wish for then," she said, looking down and reaching for the dragon ball radar. Vegeta instantly looked at her out of the corner of his eye, picking up on her change in tone. He narrowed his eyes curiously at her as he allowed her to take the radar out of his hands.

Bulma went to walk around her desk when Vegeta suddenly grabbed her arm. She looked back at him in surprise as he stepped closer to her, his eyes burning with a desire that almost made her tremble by just looking into them.

"There is nothing I want to wish for with the dragon balls," he told her in a low tone, staring into her blue eyes that were suddenly very alive. "But, perhaps…" his voice trailed off as he slowly raised one hesitant hand to a strand of her hair. He touched it very gently, forgetting about his earlier determination to stay away from her as he felt how soft her hair was.

"Perhaps…?" Bulma asked, suddenly breathless from how close his hand was to her face. His eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes on the strand of hair that he was absent-mindedly twirling around his finger. Oh yes, he definitely liked her hair like this much better.

"Perhaps your planet has other things of value to offer," Vegeta finally finished, his voice deepening as he slowly lowered his hand. He very briefly made eye contact with her, and something inside of his chest tightened up at the way she was looking at him.

He let go of her other arm and frowned, suddenly realizing how close they were to each other. _What the fuck am I doing! _he mentally chastised himself, alarms going off in his head. He shook his head and took a defensive step back.

"I…have to train. I should go…" he mumbled, turning to leave when Bulma reached out to him and grabbed his hand. Vegeta instantly tensed, his heart pounding when she stepped up to him. He leaned back from her a little.

"Don't go," Bulma told him gently. Vegeta's frown deepened and he wanted to retort, but the way she was looking at him kept him rooted to the spot. He shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot as she put the radar down, and then found himself mesmerized by the look in her eyes when she finally turned back to him. He didn't think it was possible that the shade of blue in her eyes existed anywhere else in the universe.

"Why do you always look at me like that, woman?" the prince demanded, his tone rougher than he intended. He winced a little, but she just laughed lightly. The innocuous sound took the edge off his tension, but not by a lot.

"How do I look at you, Vegeta?" she asked him in a teasing voice.

"Should I get you a damn mirror?" Vegeta asked snidely, an eye twitching as she slowly reached a hand up to his face. The tension in his body was damn near paralyzing as she leaned into him.

"There's one on the wall behind my desk, tough guy," she told him, unfazed by his tone as she trailed the strong, defined line of his jaw with a delicate touch. She smiled when she saw him visibly shudder at her touch. He frowned and nervously leaned his head back a little, eyeing her suspiciously. "It's okay," Bulma whispered, half amazed and half saddened at how distrustful he was. "You can trust me," she told him sincerely.

Vegeta stayed still when he felt her hands on the side of his face. Her touch was so warm, her hands so soft against his tough skin. He closed his eyes, sighing a little when he felt her body against his. With every bit of self-discipline he had, he remained still, even though what he really wanted to do was clear her desk and take her against it. Bulma was weak compared to him, and he was suddenly floored by the realization that he didn't want to hurt her. Never in his life had he actually given a damn about injuring the women he got _intimate_ with, but…

"Bulma…" he whispered, just as she very gently brought her lips to his. He could feel the smile on her face as he slowly parted his lips. Bulma took the invitation, very tenderly kissing him, her heart beating so hard she wondered if he could hear it. He was much more gentle than he was when he kissed her to hurt Yamcha, hesitantly teasing her lips with his tongue, as if asking permission to go further. She granted him entrance and sighed into the kiss at the sensation of his tongue gently exploring her mouth while she explored his. She breathed in his breath and gave him hers in their sweet kiss, a tingle of excitement going down her spine when he hesitantly put his hands on her waist. She brought her arms around his neck, pulling herself tighter against him. He growled low in his throat in response, tilting his head and almost desperately deepening their kiss.

The next thing Bulma knew, Vegeta was backing her up against the wall, his hands on the sides of her face as he ached to have even more of her. Their pace was frenzied now, her hands lowering to the bottom of his shirt and tugging it up. He pulled away from her just long enough to pull it off, tossing it to the side while she took the chance to slip out of her lab coat. They were on each other again instantly, both of them breathing heavily as he lowered his head to her neck. He ravished her wonderful, soft, inviting skin, all the while being conscious of not causing her any pain. He closed his eyes and breathed in, groaning as her scent overwhelmed and intoxicated him.

Bulma shuddered when she felt his breath on her neck and his body heat enveloping her. She let one hand explore his chiseled chest, going down his perfect abs. His skin was practically on fire as she trailed her hand down to his pants…

Vegeta growled and pulled away immediately, backing up as if burned. Bulma blinked in surprise, feeling the loss of his heat instantly. She tilted her head a little, looking at him with silent questions.

Vegeta closed his eyes and cracked his neck, before taking one deep and calming breath.

"I can't," he finally told her bluntly, opening his eyes to look at her.

"Why not?" Bulma asked, still breathless and almost trembling from needing him. From what she was able to tell (and feel), he definitely had the desire for more. Suddenly, an idea dawned on her, and her eyes brightened in realization. "Oh… you've never…?"

Vegeta snarled at her in frustration. "Of course I have, woman!" he snapped angrily, suddenly starting to pace from side to side. He reached up with two fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose, hissing in exasperation. He felt like a fucking idiot for actually giving in to her. Now that he knew how good she felt, it was going to be so much harder to resist her…

"Then… what's the problem?" Bulma asked, narrowing her eyes in genuine confusion as she watched him pace. She took a deep breath, trying to soothe her frazzled nerves.

"Kakarot's kid. The brat _exists_," Vegeta sneered, with an impatient, frustrated wave of his hand as if she should put the rest of the pieces together.

"…Oh, you're worried about me getting pregnant?" Bulma asked in realization. She smiled a little, pleased to see that even alien men had the same concerns as human men.

"Of course I am!" he shot back at her. "And I can't do anything to stop it from happening, not with _you_…"

Her smile faltered, before being replaced by a look of confusion. "What?"

"I said, I can't-"

"No, I heard what you said," Bulma said impatiently. The moment between them was rapidly disintegrating, but she was too curious now. "What did you mean? How did you avoid it from happening with the other alien women you've been with?"

Vegeta stopped pacing, his jaw set angrily. He didn't want to answer the question, but his pride was telling him not to be a coward. If he repulsed her, then he repulsed her. He couldn't change his past, or the horrible things he had done. They were a part of him, and they would always be a part of him. Hell, he had even _told _her that he was an evil, heartless bastard. It should come as no surprise. A muscle flexed near his jaw as he felt her eyes on his profile, burning a hole into him.

"How do you _think _I avoided the situation, woman?" he finally asked, his voice rough.

"You… killed them… after…" Bulma's words got stuck in her throat when he turned to look at her. She saw the truth in his eyes. From where she was standing, his eyes were black again. Darkened from seeing so much death in his day. For the first time in a long time, his eyes sent a feeling of terror through her.

"Ah, so you _do_ feel fear," Vegeta sneered bitterly, seeing the change in her eyes. He was disgusted with himself for everything he'd done; mostly though, he was disgusted that briefly, during their kiss, he had allowed himself to believe that she was _different_. For thinking that she could actually look past everything he had done. He was a fool for thinking that. Who the hell would ever do that for him? What, in his forsaken existence, had he ever done to even _deserve _someone to look past his evil deeds?

No one, and nothing at all. Those were always the answers.

And by the way Bulma was looking at him, it seemed like that's how things were going to stay.

"What's the matter, woman?" Vegeta asked, hating the disgusted and judgmental way she was looking at him. He didn't know why. He completely deserved it after all. He looked away, not wanting to see her looking at him like that. Not after the way she had looked at him earlier. "Didn't know you were inviting a monster to your bed?" he asked, his gruff voice guarded and detached again.

"No, it's just… is having a child _that_ horrible to you that you would…" Bulma couldn't even bring herself to finish the sentence. Yes, she knew he had done horrible deeds, but they had never actually been laid out so clearly for her to see. She forced herself to clear her throat before continuing. "I mean, what if you made a mistake and it was too late? What if you had a child back then? You would have accepted it, right?"

Vegeta laughed a bitter laugh that had no humor in it, and the sound chilled Bulma to her bones. He coldly eyed her out of the corner of his eye. "Do I really need to answer that, woman? I have killed men, women, and children alike, with no regard and no mercy. You know this."

"Yes…but…you would have done that to _your_ child?" she asked in disbelief, unable to keep her disgust out of her voice. Who would be so evil to do such a thing?

Vegeta's entire face appeared to harden as he turned to face her. He squared his shoulders and made sure he was looking her right in the eye, if only so he could see her reaction firsthand. If he could see her disgust with his own eyes, then he could wash his hands of her for good.

"_Especially _to my own child."

Bulma could see no lies on his face, and could clearly see that he absolutely meant what he said. She shook her head in complete disbelief. "Why?" she choked out, wanting to understand. How could the same man who had so very tenderly kissed her be capable of such things?

"Hn," he grunted. "You don't want to know. You have already made your judgment," he said nastily, giving her one lingering look before turning and heading over to the door.

"Why do you have to be like that!" Bulma shrieked, making him cringe from how loud she was, as she immediately followed him after him. "I'm trying to _understand_ you, Vegeta!"

Vegeta growled and instantly spun on his heel to face her. "What is there to understand, woman! I HAVE NEVER WANTED CHILDREN!" he roared furiously.

"To the point where you would actually hurt them if you would have had them?" Bulma defiantly yelled back at him.

"No," he said in a cold voice, stepping up to her. Bulma took a deep breath, bravely standing her ground as he walked right up to her, his dark eyes burning with distant hatred. "I would not have hurt them. I would have killed them. And it would have been a mercy."

"…What?" Bulma asked, leaning back away from him in simultaneous disgust and shock at what he was saying.

"Death was a better option than growing up like I did. If my father would have had a fucking backbone, he would've done the same to me instead of handing me over to Frieza like a goddamn coward!" he practically screamed in her face, before pointing to the door. "So how about you go out there to your perfect weakling mate with the flowers? He doesn't have the blood on his hands that I do. Perhaps _he_ is more your style," he said with a bitter snarl.

For the first time in a long time, Bulma Briefs could think of nothing to say. Vegeta hardly gave her the chance, the door slamming loudly after him as he furiously marched out of her office before she could even blink. She stood there in stunned silence, before raising one hand to her forehead and sighing. Her thoughts were all a blur as she tried to wrap her mind around what he had told her.

Finally, she turned away and walked back around the bots he had dropped on the floor, heading over to her desk. She froze when she saw his discarded blue polo shirt on the floor, her lab coat not too far away. Bending down, she picked up both items before heading over to her desk. She draped her lab coat absent-mindedly on the back of her leather chair. Sighing again, she sat down heavily in her seat. She pulled his shirt into her hands, holding it gingerly. She rubbed her eyes and frowned, his words echoing in her mind.

_Death was a better option than growing up like I did._

For a brief moment, she envisioned Vegeta as a child being handed over to Frieza. She swallowed heavily at the thought, her heart aching for him. His life was filled with pain and loss. Bulma stretched his shirt out and gently began folding it up. She then put the shirt on the side of her desk as her office phone began to ring. Tiredly, she reached over and pressed the speakerphone button. "Yeah?"

"Ms. Briefs, Mr. Yamcha would like to speak to you. He's being very insistent."

Bulma groaned inwardly, rolling her eyes. Yamcha had horrific timing. "Tell him to go home. I don't want to see him. And if he's out there when I leave, I will call security and have him escorted out."

She reached over and turned off the speakerphone, reclining back in her seat. Her mind wandered back to Vegeta, and her stomach fluttered at the thought of him. Her eyes drifted over to his shirt on the table, and the radar that was nearby. She smiled a little as she thought of how he had clearly been trying not to hurt her.

No. She was _not_ going to give up on him that easily…

* * *

Vegeta disengaged the gravity simulator, before collapsing to the floor from sheer exhaustion. Twelve hours of nonstop, relentless, brutal training which to an outsider would seem more like a self-inflicted masochistic punishment session. He hadn't even bothered getting out of his khaki pants, he had been so enraged after leaving Bulma's office. Mostly at himself for being so damn _stupid. _

What _was _it about that woman that made him want to spill his guts? What was it about the little, frail human woman that had her getting completely under his skin?

How could he have given in?

He closed his eyes, laying on his back and gasping in sweet air as he tried catching his breath. Even while training, he couldn't get the goddamn woman off his mind! The look of disgust and disappointment that she had given him made him want to kill anything that fucking moved, and that only made him angrier at himself. How could he have let it get to the point where she had such control over him? He knew _better _than that!

Growling, Vegeta rolled over onto his side, painfully pulling himself up so he was sitting. He grit his teeth, clutching his ribs which were aching as he slowly got up to his feet. He took one step and fell back down to his knees, wincing as his body adamantly protested against walking. Biting his lip so hard that he drew blood, he forced himself back up to his feet by sheer will alone. It took him a little longer than he would've liked, but he eventually got out of the chamber, into the fresh air of the night. Wiping the blood off his lips, he didn't even bother with walking, taking unsteadily to the air towards his bedroom.

Vegeta slowly and painfully climbed through the window, debating postponing a shower until morning. He didn't even think he could make it to his bed without collapsing, much less making it to the _bathroom. _

Suddenly, he realized he had bigger problems to deal with.

"I was starting to think you were going to be training all night."

Vegeta stared at her with unguarded shock on his face. He had been absolutely certain that she wouldn't want a damn thing to do with him anymore. Yet there Bulma was, sitting up on his bed with her legs stretched out on it, her head tilted a little as she regarded him. She was dressed in an oversized t-shirt that came down to her knees, her legs bare, though he could just barely make out the bottom of her shorts. He lowered himself to one knee, one arm still on the windowsill as he simply stared at her.

"You okay?" she asked him, her eyes narrowing in concern over the way he had one arm favoring his side.

"What do _you_ care, woman?" the prince sneered, harshly and defensively, everything now guarded about him from his voice down to his posture. Bulma sighed, putting down a book that she had brought him. She sat up straight and observed him for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Bulma finally told him. He frowned and raised an eyebrow, silently questioning her. She kept her eye contact with him, wanting to make sure that he understood. "Vegeta… you made decisions, and I don't want to judge you for them. All of that is in the past."

Vegeta snorted disbelievingly. "Whatever, woman. Why don't you just say what you want to say?"

"What?"

"What do you _want? _To change my mind about having children now that Frieza's out of the way? Because I won't have that attachment in my life. I won't have _any _attachment in my life," he clarified, and Bulma knew they were no longer talking about children.

"Look, if you don't want kids, that's fine. I'm not here to change your mind on that."

"Then why are you here?" Vegeta demanded, trying not to let his confusion drip into his voice. He narrowed his eyes at her, more in an effort to conceal his incredible fatigue. This woman was becoming the bane of his existence.

"These are called condoms. Men wear these here on Earth to help prevent pregnancies. You slide them on and wear them during sex, and it'll lower the odds of pregnancy," she told him, raising the box so he could see it. He scowled at her, one of his eyes beginning to twitch rhythmically.

"Now _this _box here is a box of pills. Women take these and it helps lower the odds of pregnancy by a good amount. Now, if you combine both of these, you make the odds of pregnancy practically nil."

"…Why are you telling me this?" Vegeta asked, his scowl deepening as he looked from the boxes back to her.

"Because you don't have to live the way you used to anymore. You don't want kids, and that's fine. You don't have to have them," she told him, raising the boxes and giving him a small smile. "Just make sure you wear a condom, and make sure that…" she bit back her disgust a bit, not expecting the wave of jealousy that ran through her with her next words, "…whatever girl you're with… is on the pill. Okay?"

They stared at each other in silence for seconds on end that slowly began to trickle into minutes.

He broke the standoff first.

"You are the most foolish woman I have ever met," he finally growled as he shook his head, almost in dismay.

"And _you _are the most stubborn Saiyan I have ever met."

"Yes, because you know plenty of Saiyans," he sneered with a roll of his eyes, slowly getting up to his feet. He winced and gingerly approached his bed. It looked damn inviting. Bulma instantly put the boxes on his desk, got off his bed, and walked over to him.

"What's wrong?" she asked worriedly. "Are you hurt?"

Vegeta damn near laughed out loud. After everything, she was still worried about him? She was such an enigma. He brushed her away with one hand, shaking his head. "I'm fine, woman. Stop your needless fussing and go away."

"Fine," Bulma huffed indignantly, watching with concerned eyes as he slowly and very gingerly climbed into bed, laying down on his side, boots and all. He shot her an irritated and almost exasperated look when he realized that she hadn't left yet.

"What do you _want_, woman? Go _away_ already," he said tiredly, hoping like hell that she didn't want to actually put those _boxes_ to use on that night. His eyelids were feeling like they weighed twenty tons each, and he knew he would be asleep before she could even take that overgrown shirt off… actually, on further examination of her body, he decided he would force himself to stay awake to see _that_ much.

"Just want to make sure you're okay, that's all… do you want a Senzu bean?"

Vegeta just grunted and closed his eyes, waving her away, too tired to deal with her nonsense anymore. He lowered his hand and sighed, succumbing to his exhaustion and falling asleep within moments. Bulma blinked in surprise, before smiling a little. She tilted her head and looked at him for a moment, before going over to him. Slowly, she started tugging his boots off for him. He didn't even flinch, and she snickered as she imagined the fiery reaction he would have if he knew what she was doing. Reaching over him, she grabbed his sheets and pulled them over so they were covering him. Before she even realized what she was doing, she leaned down and kissed him on his cheek.

Her action suddenly hit her along with the truth all at the same time, faster than lightning. It almost made her laugh in realization.

She was actually starting to fall in love with Mr. Prince Vegeta of the Saiyans.


	14. Addiction

It was _not _stalking.

It was merely observing.

Vegeta silently crouched down on Bulma's balcony outside of her bedroom, out of sight. He leaned in close to the open door, listening intently as Bulma moved about her room. While serving Frieza, it had been drilled into him that information was always the first defense against a new enemy. The more he knew about an enemy, the smarter and deadlier his attack could be. He was adopting a similar mindset here, even going as far as dressing in his Saiyan armor, as if heading into battle. At a complete loss on how to deal with this woman, the prince was doing the only thing he knew how to do: learn as much as he could about her so he could figure out what he was dealing with.

Always observant of the state of his surroundings, Vegeta was now well aware of what Bulma had done for him the night before. The woman was effortlessly evoking a whirlwind of emotions inside of him that he had no clue how to deal with. It unnerved him to realize that whatever this was between them, it was more than lust. He had been... _gentle _with her. A look of disgust came over his face as he thought about it. Every other woman he had ever been with, he had been practically violent with; yet he couldn't bring himself to cause Bulma any kind of physical pain. It was so unlike him, and he didn't know what to make of it.

It was her selfless kindness towards him, though, that confused him the most. Try as he could, Vegeta could not wrap his mind around it. He had given her nothing to earn such kindness from her. He scowled at the thought that he might have been right about Bulma after all. Maybe she _was _different… maybe she _could _look beyond his evil past…

But why would she?

And most importantly, what the hell was he supposed to do about it?

Finally, he heard her leave. Vegeta gave her a few moments to walk away before quietly letting himself in. As soon as he stepped in, the smell in the room took his breath away. Her scent was so concentrated there in her bedroom that he could hardly think. The prince crossed his arms over his chest and instinctively took in his new surroundings.

Bulma's bedroom was at least three times the size of his. The walls were purple, as were the bed sheets and blankets. She had four pillows, which confused the hell out of him. Why would anyone need four pillows? It wasn't like she had four heads. Did _anything_ this woman do make sense? Looking around, Vegeta scowled at the messy state of the room; there were books, notes, clothes, and random other things he didn't recognize scattered everywhere on the floor. The woman was a slob. How could she live in such disarray?

Ever curious, he walked over to the dresser in the room. There was a mess of makeup and jewelry on the top of it, but he was most intrigued by the slew of pictures held in the frame of the mirror on top of the dresser. He scowled at one picture of her with Kakarot when they were younger. He was half-tempted to rip the picture to shreds, but he refrained. Tilting his head curiously, he reached out with one gloved hand and plucked out another picture, bringing it closer to examine it. There was a little girl dressed in an oversized white lab coat, a huge smile on her face with a couple of missing teeth. She had bangs that hung into her mischievous blue eyes. Vegeta smirked a little at the picture. Even as a child, he could see the fire in her.

His head snapped up when he suddenly sensed the woman right outside her bedroom door. He glanced over just in time to see the door opening.

"He is just so pathetic," Bulma said with a laugh as she walked into her bedroom. "I know! He can't take a hint. It's like, sorry, but the flowers aren't going to cut it this time… ugh, I know I probably should, but I just don't want to deal with him right now," she sighed, nestling her cell phone between her cheek and shoulder as she strolled over to her dresser. She looked at herself in the mirror, thoroughly checking her complexion. "Nope, it's really over this time. That's what he just doesn't seem to understand… Right? Maybe I should spell it out for him," she laughed, readjusting her cell phone to pull off her t-shirt. She tossed the shirt over her shoulder, where it landed on the floor in front of her bed…

…And a few inches in front of a certain Saiyan's face. Vegeta scowled at the sight of the shirt, exhaling silently through his nose. He was practically drowning in her rich scent. He was suddenly wishing he had made a clean exit instead of hiding under her bed like a fool. Now he was trapped in a purple hell, unable to leave until she left first.

"I don't really know what it is. I suppose I've just outgrown him," he heard her say. He watched Bulma's bare feet as she turned and headed towards the bed. His eyes widened when her shorts dropped around her feet, underwear at all.

Before the prince could realize what was happening, Bulma kicked her shorts and underwear right into his face. A second later, her bra hit him too. One of his eyes now rhythmically twitching, his face a deep red, Vegeta refused to take another breath. Kami help him, if he breathed in, he was going to throw her bed off him and take her right there, to hell with everything.

After all, birth control changed things.

Birth control changed things a _lot…_

_No_! Even with the threat of a pregnancy neutralized, she was still a human woman. She was not worthy. She would become clingy and emotional afterwards. She was Kakarot's friend. He could not, and _would not_ surrender to his physical need.

So he remained there, refusing to breathe in, his body trembling from its raw desire for the naked woman less than two feet from him…

Oblivious of the torture she was inflicting on the highly aroused Saiyan hiding under her bed, Bulma laughed. "I'll be sure I tell him that next time he comes around. Anyways, I'm going to have to let you go, I have to take a shower and then I have to do some work for Vegeta… sure thing… all right, thanks Chi, bye!"

Bulma tossed her cell phone onto her bed and then strolled into her private bathroom, closing the door behind her. Two seconds later, Vegeta had already rolled out from underneath her bed, gone to the balcony, and leapt over the rail. He landed gracefully on the grass below, immediately heading over to the gravity chamber. He had gone into her bedroom looking to gain some kind of insight, but had walked out knowing only one thing.

Bulma Briefs was very quickly becoming his biggest weakness…

* * *

Yamcha was not going down without a fight.

So he had messed up a little. Big deal. He still didn't understand why Bulma wouldn't just forgive him already. They could spend an entire night (or two) having makeup sex, and then all would be right with the world once again. He had never had a problem earning her forgiveness before, and he had a feeling that things were different now because of a certain Saiyan living on the premises. And he was not about to stand by and let a complete asshole like _Vegeta_ swoop in and corrupt _his _girlfriend.

He ran a hand through his hair, adjusted his tie, and rang the doorbell.

"Right out the back to the gravity chamber," Bulma directed, walking into the kitchen. Bunny turned away from the sizzling steaks she was cooking, seeing six of Capsule Corporation's employees trailing behind her daughter. Each of them was struggling to carry just one of Vegeta's newly repaired training bots.

"Bulma, sweetheart, can you get the door? I swear I heard the doorbell ringing," Bunny said brightly.

"Really? I didn't hear anything," Bulma said with a frown, holding the backdoor open as her employees filed out to the backyard. "I'll check it out in a sec, Mom. Yeah, just put them on the grass over there. I'll get him to come get them…" she ordered, leaving the kitchen with her employees, the door closing behind her.

Yamcha scowled and glanced at his watch. He leaned in close so his ear was against the door, but could hear no one approaching. He rang the doorbell again, running a hand through his hair once more.

"Well would you look at what the wind blew in?" He glanced over, smiling when he saw Bulma approaching him. His smile faltered, though, when he saw the death glare she was giving him. She stopped a few feet away from him and put her hands on her hips. "What do _you _want?"

"You changed your hair," Yamcha said absent-mindedly, taking in the sight of his girlfriend. Dressed in very short white shorts and a dark green tank top, she looked as beautiful as ever. "It looks great. _You _look great."

"Yes, I'm gorgeous, I know," Bulma deadpanned. "You didn't answer the question."

Yamcha sighed. "Look, Bulma. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you, and I just want us to stop this. I miss you, babe," he admitted, stepping closer to her. Bulma crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yamcha, it's been weeks since I've last seen you. In all that time, I haven't even gotten a text message from you. Were you too busy landing every woman within a one-mile radius to bother contacting me?" Bulma demanded.

"What?" Yamcha asked, both confused and offended. "What are you talking about? I've been busy training for the androids!"

"Right…"

"Aw come on, babe," Yamcha pleaded, walking over and taking her hands. She looked him over curiously, taking in his well-tailored black suit for the first time. He had on a nice white dress shirt and had actually cleaned up nicely. He was a sight that would've had her fawning all over him just over a month ago. "I got us reservations for your favorite Italian spot for dinner tonight. Come on, come with me, we'll talk."

Bulma growled and yanked her hands away from him. "First of all, I'm not your _babe _anymore. And second of all, how are you going to go and make a dinner reservation for us, without even asking me first?"

"So you would have agreed to come out to dinner with me if I had asked?" Yamcha asked, his eyes bright with hope.

"No, I wouldn't have agreed, but you still should have asked," Bulma snapped. "It's a matter of principle."

"A matter of principle, or a matter of Vegeta?" Yamcha snapped back.

Bulma's glare turned deadly. "My relationship with Vegeta is none of your business, Yamcha. I suggest you start remembering that."

"Oh, so now you're in a relationship with him?"

"So what if I am? I'm not in a relationship with _you _so I can do whatever the hell I want now."

Yamcha was going to respond when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. "Hold on a sec," he said, raising one finger to Bulma as if gesturing for her to wait one moment. He turned away from her and pulled out his cell phone, flipping it open.

He hadn't read one word before Bulma snatched the phone out of his hand. "Hey!" he exclaimed, reaching back for his phone. Bulma turned away from him, giving him her back so she could read his phone.

"Oh, look at this text message we have here," Bulma said with mock surprise. "Tara huh? Who the hell is that? Your rebound girl?"

"She's no one," Yamcha pleaded, his face turning red from his embarrassment. "She's just been hounding me because she follows my baseball team."

"For being no one, she sure knows a lot about your personal anatomy," Bulma sneered, throwing his phone over her shoulder.

"Bulma, it's not like that!"

"Just leave before I ask Vegeta to escort you off my property," Bulma said with a wave of her hand. "I don't want to deal with your bullshit right now, Yamcha."

Yamcha watched her walk away, his jaw dropped. He turned and picked up his cell phone, immediately starting a furious response text message. If he had only had a few more minutes with her, he could have worn her down and gotten her to give in. He had been so close! He sent off his response and snapped his phone shut, cursing his horrible luck.

Meanwhile, any good mood Bulma might've been in was completely gone.

She could practically feel her blood boiling as she marched around the spacious compound towards Vegeta's gravity chamber. Her ex-boyfriend had a lot of nerve showing up like he did. How dare he show up to her home, questioning her relationship with Vegeta? Who the hell did he think he was? Her fury was growing the more she thought about it.

Vegeta was methodically completing his push-ups under 400 times Earth's gravity, hitting each one in a perfect rhythm. He wasn't in the best of moods either. His gravity room was supposed to be his safe haven. Here, he should have been able to lock himself away from the world and focus on the only thing that made sense to him: getting stronger.

Instead, his mind kept drifting back to the kiss he shared with Bulma the day before.

It was absolutely ridiculous. It was a meaningless kiss.

Why the hell was he dwelling on it then? And why had she been so nice and understanding to him afterwards? Why couldn't she have just stayed disgusted and disappointed?

So many questions. Would he ever get any answers?

He scowled when he heard a muffled banging on the door. He didn't even need to ask who it was. Ever since he had left her bedroom, he had suddenly become hypersensitive to Bulma and her whereabouts. Quite against his will, his mind had been tracking her very weak ki all day long.

He ignored her with great difficulty, continuing his push-ups uninterrupted. He had no time for this foolishness.

"Vegeta, open this door!" Bulma yelled. She pounded on the door again. "Vegeta!"

He set his jaw stubbornly. Like hell he was going to take orders from a human woman.

Bulma growled in exasperation. "Fine then. We'll do it your way."

She entered the code that could overwrite the gravity simulation, and could hear the whirring of the gravity room coming to a stop. It was followed by a furious stream of curses. She took one step back when the door opened and Vegeta stood in front of her, wearing his Saiyan armor. Bulma could practically feel his rage pulsing off of him as he stared at her, his dark eyes livid.

The prince glanced over to the keypad next to the gravity room entrance, and angrily slammed one fist into it. Sparks instantly flew from the impact.

"Hey! What did you have to go and do that for, you jerk?" Bulma yelled at him.

"That is the _last_ time you interrupt my training like that, woman. And if you reinstall that overwrite, there will be serious consequences. Understand?" Vegeta snarled threateningly, his fists now clenched at his sides as he stared into her equally livid blue eyes.

"Well _maybe _if you wouldn't ignore me, I wouldn't have to shut down the gravity simulator," she shot back.

"What do you want?" he growled, crossing his arms over his chest. "I do not have time for you and your stupid distractions right now."

"Do you have time for your repaired bots?" Bulma asked, putting her hands on her waist. He scowled at her, remaining silent. She gave him a smug smirk. "That's what I thought. They're right over there."

Vegeta looked past her, and sure enough, there were six new and repaired bots sitting on the grass. He grunted his approval. "Bring them into the gravity room at once."

"Um, do you know how much those things weigh? Come out here and get them, so I can know right now what you think."

"I am the Prince of all Saiyans. I do not take orders from _you,_" he sneered. "Now I order you to bring them in here at once! Do I make myself clear?"

"Now you listen here, buddy," Bulma growled, poking him in the chest. She leaned in close to him, and though he didn't back away, his heartbeat did speed up. Vegeta remained still except for a muscle flexing rhythmically near his jaw as he stared at her. She was pissed, and her eyes were so alive that he couldn't look anywhere else if he tried. "I worked my ass off today to get this done for _you, _and I did a damn good job if I do say so myself. The very least you can do is walk your ass over _there_…" another poke, "…take a look at the _bots_…" another poke, "…and then thank me for a job well _done_." She poked him again for good measure. "Do I make myself clear?"

Bulma fearlessly stared him down a moment longer before turning and walking over towards the repaired bots. She smiled when she felt Vegeta reluctantly following her, mumbling curses under his breath. He brushed past her, ignoring her as he squatted down in front of one of the bots. A studious expression now on his face, he reached out and picked up the bot with both hands, bringing it closer to examine it. Bulma crossed her arms and sighed as she watched him. It was like pulling teeth to get him to act civil… how could she get him to unwind and open up to her without screaming or flying off the handle?

Suddenly, Bulma saw something green leap in the corner of her eye.

Vegeta was startled when Bulma screamed, dropping the bot in his hands. He barely had any time to assess what was going on when Bulma leapt onto his back, clinging to him for dear life. The first thing that ran through his mind was that the boy from the future had been wrong, and the androids were here right now. He dropped to one knee, Bulma's arms wrapped tightly around his neck from behind.

"Kill it, Vegeta! Kill it!" she screamed in his ear.

"Where?" he yelled. He whirled around, his right hand lifted, palm out and glowing. He scanned the yard for any threat, his senses on full alert. There was a protective urge pulsating through his body that he had never felt before.

Before he could make any sense of it, Bulma pointed. "Over there!"

Vegeta looked, saw the "threat," and rolled his eyes. He lowered his hand, dissipating the lethal energy he had been ready to unleash. Looking at her over his shoulder, the prince scowled at her. "A frog? Woman, your brain must be damaged."

Bulma scowled back at him, very hesitantly removing herself from him. She knelt behind him, keeping her hands on his back. She wanted to keep the Saiyan between her and the frog hopping across her backyard. "There is _nothing _wrong with my brain, you jackass! It's just, you know, after the whole experience with Captain Ginyu on Namek, I've just been a little jumpy around frogs, alright?"

Vegeta's scowl turned into a look of confusion. He didn't remember her being present when the whole body switch fiasco was happening with Captain Ginyu and Kakarot. "What are you talking about?"

Bulma blushed a little, before confiding, "He found me when he was a frog, and he tricked me and switched bodies with me. I was a frog for a while and now I hate the stupid things, okay? There. That's all."

Vegeta blinked in surprise, sitting down in the grass and looking over at her in bewilderment. He then looked over at the frog, imagining a similar though much smarter frog on Namek switching bodies with Bulma. He watched the frog in the yard leap around, imagining Bulma stuck in a frog's body and leaping around too.

He smirked before a snort of laughter escaped him. He raised one fist up to his mouth to stifle the rest of his laughter. He tried valiantly to compose himself, but the thought of Bulma as a frog was so ridiculous and hilarious that he couldn't help it. He burst out into loud laughter, the laughter quickly growing into hysterics when he imagined Captain Ginyu trapped in Bulma's body.

Bulma stared at Vegeta as if he had grown another head, her eyes wide with surprise. For once, he wasn't laughing a mocking or cruel laugh. It was actual, _genuine_ laughter, and the fact that it was at her expense was completely irrelevant. She smiled, loving the warm sound of him laughing.

It was his smile, though, that was really melting her. It was even better than she imagined it would be. It was absolutely gorgeous and completely lit his face up, warming all of his features.

"Captain Ginyu… your body… while you… you were a frog…" he wheezed, one arm around his ribs.

"Oh, shut up," she told him playfully, laughing herself. She couldn't help it, his laughter was incredibly contagious.

"Tell me something, woman," he said, regaining a bit of his composure as he looked at her. He smirked. "How many flies did you eat?"

"Ugh, you are such an ass, you know that?" Bulma told him with a smile, punching him in the arm as he laughed so hard he fell back into the grass. He covered his eyes with one forearm, as if trying to hide his laughter.

Immediately, Vegeta's laughter died when he felt her touch his hand. He removed his forearm from his eyes only to find that Bulma was now lying down on her right side, extremely close to him. She had her head propped up with her hand, her elbow resting in the grass as she gazed at him curiously. Her left hand was playing with his, and he scowled when he felt it. To her pleasant surprise though, he didn't pull away.

"When was the last time you laughed like that?" she asked him quietly. He looked at her for a moment, before setting his jaw and turning his head away, staring angrily at nothing. Bulma sighed when he stayed silent. She kept playing with his hand, figuring she might as well be grateful that he was still laying with her in the grass. She eyed the various holes in his armor, frowning thoughtfully. She was going to have to create new and improved armor for him. No way could she let him wear such worn out armor when the androids came.

"Back with Nappa and Raditz. Not too long before I sent Raditz here," he finally admitted. Bulma looked up at him, her brows furrowing at the distant look in his dark eyes. "Wish I hadn't sent him here...wish I wouldn't have come here either."

"Well, I for one am glad you did come," Bulma whispered in his ear, the sensation sending an electric shock down his spine. Vegeta shuddered with pleasure when she gently nipped at his ear. "You make things interesting around here," she whispered with a smirk.

"You are playing with fire, little girl," he growled, his voice dangerous.

"I'm not afraid of getting burned, Vegeta."

"Is that right?"

Before she realized what was happening, Vegeta had already turned them over so he was hovering over her. He gave her a wicked smirk when he saw the shocked look on her face. Their faces mere inches apart, Vegeta pinned her hands over her head. Bulma bit her bottom lip as she looked up at him. She was completely at his mercy, and the idea was blissful torture. Oh, how badly she wanted him…

"You _should _be afraid. I don't play nice, little human woman," he whispered, leaning in to breathe in her scent. It was an addiction. She was an addiction.

His addiction.

"Neither do I, dear prince," she teased. He pulled back just in time to see her raise a challenging eyebrow at him.

That was it. He could take no more.

Vegeta closed his eyes and desperately brought his lips down on hers, deciding to hell with being gentle. Bulma instantly met his fervor with her own, both of their tongues battling the other for control in the kiss. He let go of her hands and roamed his hands over her body, his touch rough but still not enough to hurt her. He deepened their kiss, settling his hands on her hips while she played with his hair. She suddenly fisted a handful of his hair, making him growl low into their kiss. The move was so sudden and so incredibly arousing that he instinctively rocked his hips against hers.

He pulled away, shaking his head. Closing his eyes shut tightly, he rolled off of her, sitting next to her. He sighed.

"I can't…"

"Vegeta, didn't you hear _anything_ of what I told you last night?" Bulma asked through her heavy breathing as she sat up as well. Honestly, this Saiyan was going to be the death of her.

Vegeta opened his eyes and glared at her. "Woman, I won't put one of those… those _contraptions _on me," he sneered with a disgusted wave of his hand. "It's completely disgraceful."

"No it's not, guys wear condoms all the time," she argued. He shook his head and rolled his eyes, stubbornly looking away. Bulma smirked and got a little closer to him. "If it makes you feel better, I _am _on the pill and it's been working great so far for me."

"Hn," he grunted. "That's because you are a virgin."

Bulma laughed. "I'm not a virgin, Vegeta."

Vegeta looked back at her, his dark eyes both curious and amused as he raised an eyebrow. Kami, he was so goddamn handsome. "Have you fucked anyone besides scarface?"

"No, I haven't _had sex with _anyone besides Yamcha," she told him, eyeing him suspiciously when he smirked.

"Like I said. You are a virgin," Vegeta said smugly, an arrogant look on his face.

"Well, for a _virgin, _I sure know how to get this going, now don't I?" Bulma said with a smirk of her own.

Vegeta's smirk disappeared when Bulma got up and sat down right on his lap, facing and straddling him. He swallowed heavily, feeling almost intoxicated by her scent and her body as she casually wrapped her arms around his neck. It was suddenly very hard for him to breathe.

"It's okay to say yes," Bulma whispered in his ear. "Believe me, you are the only one I want right now. Don't you want me too? Don't you think I'm attractive?"

"Hmph. You are decent, I suppose," he said gruffly.

Bulma pulled back with an indignant look on her face, before seeing the huge smirk on his face. She smirked back, shaking her head. "Such a jacka-"

He grabbed her and pulled her down to him, ravaging her lips. He could kiss her all day long and never grow tired of such a rare, delicious taste. Bulma instantly wrapped her arms around him as he turned and lowered them back to the grass so he was on top, never breaking their kiss…

That is, until he heard her mother.

"Bulma, sweetheart – oh dear! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you two love birds!" Bunny said with a giggle. Vegeta instantly got off Bulma, sitting so his back was towards Bunny, his face bright red. It was one thing for Bulma to see him aroused, but her mother? He would rather shove an icicle into one of his eyes.

A very flustered and disheveled-looking Bulma sat up, turning to her mother with impatient eyes. "Mom!" she hissed.

"Sorry, dear! I just wanted to tell you two that dinner is getting cold. But if you two would rather continue having fun out here, don't let me stop you!"

Bulma and Vegeta sat silently as Bunny headed back inside with another giggle. When the door closed behind her, Vegeta closed his eyes and cracked his neck.

"Can I kill your mother?" he asked, his tone serious. "I could do it fast without causing pain."

Bulma laughed and stood up, dusting herself off. "You're not the first person to ask me that. Do you want to go inside and get some food?"

The prince opened his eyes and looked at her warily. There was that goddamn kindness again. Scowling, he shook his head and looked away. "I have to get back to training," he said, his tone detached. Bulma sighed, practically seeing the walls being put back up again. The warm rapport that had been born between them was now gone once again.

"Well, alright, I guess," she conceded, trying not to show her disappointment. "The leftovers will be in the fridge ready for you to just heat up whenever you get hungry. I also got you some more beers."

"Fine," Vegeta mumbled, avoiding eye contact with her.

"Let me know if the bots are okay?"

All she got was a nod. Bulma gazed at him, but he refused to look at her. She hesitated momentarily, but knew that if she pushed, he would shut down even more. She wasn't a very patient woman, but she realized with painful clarity that any hope of having _something _with the Saiyan Prince was going to require an abundance of patience.

The glimpses he had let her see, though, made her believe that her patience would be rewarded with something very special if she could fully earn his trust.

Vegeta rubbed his eyes when he heard and felt Bulma go inside. Damn that woman. Getting up to his feet, he turned around and methodically collected all of the bots into his arms. Scowling, he turned and headed back into the gravity room.

This woman was becoming a complete obsession. A weakness. He had to stop being so stupid and giving in to her. This type of behavior was completely unacceptable, and it absolutely _had_ to stop.

Unfortunately, he knew that such a thing was easier said than done…


	15. Surrender

Bulma leaned forward, examining her reflection thoroughly for any imperfections. Humming to herself, she reached for her favorite perfume. She had woken up in an exceptionally good mood today, thanks in large part to a marvelous dream featuring the handsome Saiyan Prince living in the compound. Butterflies danced in her stomach at the thought of Vegeta, a small smile spreading over her face. Sure, the man was a little rough around the edges, and pissed her off as easily as he breathed, but there was still something there between them. She could see it when they made eye contact, and could feel it when they kissed. Now the question was, how could she make him see it too?

It was going to be an uphill battle. Vegeta was as stubborn as she was, with a temper to match. Bulma knew she had her work cut out for her if she wanted him to ever reciprocate the feelings she was very rapidly developing for him. It was worth trying for though. He was effortlessly driving her crazy, stirring up a raw desire from deep inside of her that she never even knew she had. And regardless of what he said, she knew he at least felt physically attracted to her, if nothing else.

That was good enough… for now, anyways.

Bulma walked into the empty kitchen a minute later, her blue eyes flicking over to the untouched plate of hot, buttered pancakes at the table. She bit her bottom lip, already knowing who they were for. With her mother nowhere in sight, she decided she might as well take advantage of the materials left on the counter and make herself some pancakes too. Then she could have breakfast with her prince.

The thought of Vegeta as _her _prince made Bulma laugh out loud; Kami, she was acting like a smitten, love-struck, pathetic teenager! Chuckling at herself, Bulma turned the stove back on.

Meanwhile, Vegeta was sitting on his bed, bent over and tying his Capsule Corp. gym shoes when he sensed Bulma walk into the kitchen. Without even realizing it, he started pulling his shoelaces much harder than was necessary. He finished up and sat up straight, scowling and clenching the bed sheets on either side of him. He would simply wait until she left the kitchen to go down and have his normal breakfast.

Five minutes later, he realized with dismay that it didn't seem like she was going to leave anytime soon. Looking over to his left, he stared at his bedroom window. Yes, it would be very easy to just say to hell with breakfast, and head straight to the gravity chamber. His instincts, which rarely ever failed him, told him to avoid the blue haired woman at all costs. The window was providing him the necessary escape route.

But try as he might, the prince couldn't shake the feeling that it would be running away. And he didn't run from _anyone, _much less a weakling human woman. He was no coward.

Pride won over instincts.

Wearing a black, sleeveless t-shirt and dark blue jeans over his exercise shorts, Vegeta marched downstairs, his fists tightly clenched at his sides. His face was set in stubborn determination that only he could muster up. No matter what the blasted woman was wearing, no matter how attractive and enticing she looked, he was _not _giving into her again. He was the Prince of all Saiyans. He had standards.

_She is nothing but a worthless, pathetic woman. She is nothing to me. She is… _

His thoughts came to a screeching halt when he finally stepped into the kitchen. Vegeta took one step and then stopped, his features relaxing into a stunned expression as he stared blankly at her from behind. She was wearing a white dress with pink and blue flowers spread on it. The dress came halfway down her thighs, and it was remarkably and deliciously snug on her perfect body. His dark eyes roamed up her legs, up the curve of her hips, up her soft, flowing blue hair…

Bulma turned around, holding a plate of pancakes. Immediately, he forced an indifferent expression on his face when they made eye contact.

"Vegeta, hey," Bulma said with a friendly smile. He responded with a frown, clenching his fists even tighter. "I was wondering where you were. Your food's getting cold."

"Hn," he grunted, tearing his eyes away from her hypnotizing blue ones. He took a breath, summoning up his resolve, and walked over to the table with pure confidence in every step. He was well aware of Bulma walking towards him, but it seemed like she was just going to have a seat to eat her own breakfast. That was a good thing, since he would throw her off him if she tried _kissing _him again.

Never mind the fact that _he_ had initiated the kissing the day before…

They both took a seat at the same time. To his delight, her dress was equally snug in the front. He eyed her breasts out of the corner of his eye as she sat down next to him. Bulma placed her plate down in front of her as Vegeta picked up his fork and knife. The heiress subtly checked out his fabulously muscled and tanned arms. Oh, how she longed for those powerful arms to be around her. There wouldn't be a safer place in the universe.

"Are they cold? I can warm them up for you, or make you fresh pancakes if you want," she offered nonchalantly.

Vegeta scowled and opened his mouth to respond when her scent hit him like a sledgehammer. He hadn't picked up on it because she had been cooking and the smell of pancakes was rich in the air, but now that she was sitting next to him, he suddenly couldn't smell anything else. He glared at her, his dark eyes questioning.

"Why do you smell different today, woman?" he demanded bluntly, deep down bothered that her scent wasn't the same. Unconsciously, he gripped his fork and knife a little harder. Though he would never admit it under the worst torture the universe had to offer, he loved her scent. This smell now, though, was too strong and it made him angry for some reason he couldn't pin down.

Bulma gave him a look of feigned surprise. "Oh, that must be my pineapple fragrance you're smelling."

He couldn't help the confused look that came over his face at that. "What?"

"It's my favorite perfume. I wear it to smell nice," Bulma told him with a bright smile. "Do you like it?"

"No," Vegeta replied in his gruff tone, turning to his plate and angrily cutting into his pancakes. Bulma's smile deflated, before completely disappearing with his next words, "Go sit somewhere else so I don't have to smell that shit."

"Ex-_cuse_ me?" Bulma growled, gazing at him furiously. Here she had tried to look and smell nice for him, and he couldn't care less. "Buddy, lots of people on this planet smell like shit, but _I _am not one of them."

"You're right. You're setting the standard," he sneered, suddenly standing up. He grabbed his plate and lifted it with him. "If you're not leaving, then I sure as hell am."

"Now wait just a goddamned minute," Bulma said, standing up as well. "This is my favorite perfume and I wore it because I thought you might-"

"Thought I might _what_?" he growled in a low voice. He was already at the door, but he quickly turned around to face her. His back was straight, his eyes narrowed as he glared at her, his plate of pancakes in one hand. His fury was growing by the second. Would this woman ever leave him in peace?

Bulma saw the way his dark eyes seemed to snap to life with his anger, making the hard features on his face even harder. She knew he was pissed, but she was getting pissed too. "Don't you think we should talk at least _attempt _to talk about what's been going on between us?" Bulma asked, putting her hands on her waist.

"There is _nothing _going on between us," Vegeta snarled. "And don't you ever fucking forget it."

"You know that's not true, you stubborn ass," Bulma shot back. "You know that there's more-"

"Stupid woman, there is nothing more!" he yelled at her, one of his eyes beginning to twitch from his stress as he glared at her.

"You're just scared."

His eyes turned dangerous. "_What _was that?" he snarled threateningly. The plate in his hand started to crack from how hard he was gripping it.

"I think that you feel something for me, and that you want me," Bulma told him matter-of-factly as she approached him. He scowled, his eyes wary as he watched her come up to him. "I think you're just afraid to admit it."

"Hmph," he grunted, his scowl deepening when she took the plate of pancakes out of his hand. He watched as she put the plate down on the counter. "You must have me mistaken for that lovesick coward scarfaced Yingchan you had following you around all these years."

"His name is Yamcha," Bulma laughed. He just rolled his eyes in annoyance before looking away. "Why are you so afraid to give this a chance?" she asked, her tone genuinely curious. "Do you think I'll tell the world that we're together or something?"

Vegeta growled low in his throat and closed the distance between them faster than Bulma could blink. Bulma yelped a little when he backed her up against the counter. He leaned in close, his dark eyes a whirlwind of anger and lust mixed as one.

"Let's get one thing straight," he told her in a low voice, only inches away from her, "I do not fear anyone or anything in this universe. Just so we're clear, it's not fear that keeps me from fucking you until you can't stand, woman."

Bulma bit her bottom lip to suppress a whimper. Was there _anything_ tame about this prince? She gulped a little, a tinge of excitement prickling her skin when he reached up with one hand, cupped her chin and tilted her head back.

"If anything, _you_ should fear _me_," he whispered with a smirk.

What the hell had she gotten herself into? Vegeta was a hardened killer. He was danger, power, and darkness all rolled into one. He was absolutely right; she should have been screaming for help to get his hands off her, instead of imagining what it would feel like to have his bare hands on her bare skin.

And the scary thing was, she never felt more attracted to any man in her entire life…

"Sorry to disappoint, Vegeta," she said, her voice breathless from his proximity.

Vegeta leaned forward, instinctively bringing his nose down close to the exposed skin of her neck. He growled in annoyance when he smelled that ridiculous "fragrance." It wasn't that it smelled _bad, _like he had said. It was a bit strong on his sense of smell, but it wasn't unbearable. Hell, it wasn't even unpleasant.

The problem was that it wasn't _her _scent.

"Little human woman, what makes you think you could even last with me? I would break your weak body after five minutes."

"I think you need to give humans more credit than _that._"

"Hn."

They both lifted their heads and stared into each other's eyes. She gave him a genuine smile. Vegeta's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion when he saw that emotion in her eyes that he didn't recognize. There was something very real in that emotion…

Bulma reached out to him and gently touched his jaw, and he was instantly brought back to her office. Vegeta saw where this was going and, using all of his willpower, decided to put a stop to it. He was _not _going to surrender. Not today.

And _certainly _not to _her_.

"Enough of this sentimental bullshit," he said gruffly, angrily brushing her hand away from his face. He eyed her with a cool indifference that made her feel like he was suddenly miles away instead of inches. "I cannot waste my time here any longer. I have training I need to do."

He pulled away from her, making Bulma feel like she had just been doused with a bucket of cold water from the loss of his body heat. Vegeta turned and started walking over to the backdoor, but she instantly followed after him.

"Vegeta, wait," she told him, putting a hand on his back just as he was about to walk out the door. She could practically feel every muscle in his body immediately tense in response to her touch as he stopped walking.

"What do you want from me, woman?" Vegeta hissed furiously through his teeth, clenching his fists tightly at his sides.

"Look, it's not about sex, okay?" The prince stiffened when he felt her other hand on his back as well. He remained perfectly still except for a vein that was throbbing on his temple. "If you would just listen to me, I think we could have somethi-"

"DO YOU NOT HEAR WHAT I AM TELLING YOU!" Vegeta suddenly exploded furiously, startling the hell out of Bulma. She looked at him in shock as he spun around to face her directly. "I want _nothing_ to do with you! NOTHING! I do not care about you and I never will!" he roared.

"Well fine then!" Bulma instinctively yelled back at him. She had tried the rational approach, but to hell with it. "I thought at the very least, we could be friends, but fine! I don't know why the hell I wanted anything with an asshole like you anyways!"

"Good riddance then," he sneered, turning and walking right out the door.

"Good riddance is right," she shot back, right as he slammed the door behind him, loudly punctuating his exit. Bulma shook her head and sighed deeply. Pulling off a hair tie from around her wrist, she pulled back her hair into a ponytail, frowning thoughtfully as she did. What had she _really_ expected from him?

Vegeta startled the hell out of her again when he kicked the backdoor open, before strolling back into the kitchen. Ignoring her completely, he walked over to the counter and grabbed his broken plate with his now-cold pancakes. He didn't care who she was, she was _not_ going to ruin his breakfast. Bulma exhaled through her nose as she watched the stubborn man turn and walk right back out, emphatically slamming the door behind him again.

It was just as well. She deserved better anyways. Shaking her head and ignoring the burning disappointment in her chest, she decided it was best to forget about the whole thing by getting knee-deep in her work again.

But first, she was going to take a shower and wash the scent of her perfume off her skin…

And, if she was lucky, her shower might wash away the feel of his touch too.

* * *

Vegeta fell to his hands and knees, the air knocked right out of him. He looked up slowly, his body trembling from the strain of the gravity simulation. He closed one eye when sweat ran into it, watching as his new bots aligned themselves in a new formation. He was completely exhausted; he had been at it for thirteen hours straight, but was still more than willing to keep training straight through the next day or two (or three). It wasn't like he got much sleep those days anyways, not with his nightmares.

He barely had enough time to roll out of the way, just missing an energy beam fired by a bot. He immediately got up so he was kneeling on one knee, and fired his own ki blast back in defense using both hands. His ki blast met an energy beam head on, and he knew he was risking another gravity room explosion with all the power in the room.

But Vegeta didn't care. His arms shaking from holding the blast up under 400 times Earth's gravity, he didn't care if this training session killed him. If those were the limits he had to test in order to make his ascension, then so fucking be it. Summoning up the rest of his strength, he screamed and fired with everything he had.

Three seconds later, the bots fell to the floor, fried once again.

Vegeta dropped to his knees again, panting heavily as he stared at the wrecked bots in front of him. What the hell! Was Bulma deliberately trying to screw him out of his chance at ascending? The bots were absolutely pathetic! He growled angrily to himself and slowly forced himself back up to his feet. That good for nothing woman. The _one_ goddamn thing he needed from her, she couldn't even do right.

Now, once _again, _he needed her to make repairs for him. Of all the rotten luck in the world… could it get any worse than having to deal with that woman again?

A few minutes later, he walked into the kitchen only to find Bunny in there making cupcakes.

Yes, it did seem like things could get worse.

"Oh hi, sweetie!" Bunny giggled, "I left you your pancakes on the table this morning, did you enjoy them?"

Vegeta's jaw clenched tightly at the reminder of the cold pancakes he ate with his hands while sitting on the floor of the gravity room. His eternal humiliations seemed to have no end in sight. Ignoring her, the prince instead closed his eyes and focused on locating Bulma's weak ki. Oh, when he saw that blasted woman, he was going to give her a piece of his mind.

He scowled and opened his eyes. Bulma wasn't even in the compound.

"Where the fuck is your idiot daughter?" he snarled angrily, crossing his arms and fixing Bunny with his most threatening and intense glare.

"Oh my, such language! Here, dear, have a cupcake. It will cheer you up," Bunny said with a huge smile. She placed one chocolate cupcake in front of him with pink frosting and sprinkles on it. Vegeta glared at the cupcake with a mixture of confusion and contempt as she continued, "And you just missed Bulma! She was feeling a little wound up, so she went out with some friends to a dance club."

Dance club? What the fuck was a dance club? He growled low in his throat as he came to the conclusion that she must have left because she was knew his bots would fail. She ran away because she was afraid of his reaction.

"Oh, sweet boy, don't be sad that she didn't invite you!" Bunny told him, giggling and patting his arm. He flinched at the contact, defensively backing up a step, indignant anger on his face over her remark.

"I don't care where that blasted woman goes!" he barked out. "All I want to know is when she will return!"

"Oh dear," Bunny said, glancing over at the clock. Vegeta stared at her, trying hard not to show his confusion, but how could this woman see a thing with her eyes closed? "Well, it's 10:00 right now, so maybe another few hours?"

"Another few hours!" Vegeta yelled furiously. "It's already dark outside!"

"Well, sweetie, you could always call her and ask her to come home sooner." Vegeta was so disgusted by this suggestion, he visibly struggled to maintain his composure as his face reddened. He briefly wondered if Kakarot would try to kill him if he decapitated the woman standing in front of him when Bunny giggled and continued, "Are you hungry? I'll warm you up some dinner in the meantime."

He opened his mouth to say no when his stomach growled loudly. Exhaling through his nostrils, he sat down heavily in a chair, silently signaling his acceptance of her offer. Glancing over at the clock that she had looked at, he mentally began counting down to Bulma's return.

* * *

It was past three in the morning when a slightly buzzed Bulma finally entered the compound again. A night of dancing with friends, drinks, and innocent flirting was just what the doctor ordered to get her mind off Vegeta. She would have stayed out a little longer, but the paparazzi had tracked her down just when the music was getting good and she was starting to really have a good time. Honestly, she was amazed it had taken them so long. It was the biggest downfall to being the genius heiress to the biggest and wealthiest company on the planet; her privacy was shot.

Yawning, she walked upstairs, already craving the feel of her soft bed. She was going to be asleep in no time. At least she mostly worked her own hours, so it would be okay if she started work late in the morning. Those were the perks.

"Well it's about damn time," a familiar rough voice said as soon as she entered, startling Bulma and instantly making her heart race. She immediately flicked on the light in her room, only to see Vegeta leaning with his back against the doorframe leading out into her balcony. He had his arms and ankles crossed, an impatient scowl on his face as he turned to face her. Saiyan was dressed in his snug training shorts and his gym shoes, the sweat still running down his body from his training session that he had only stopped when he finally sensed her coming home.

She gazed at him in momentary shock. "You…were waiting for me?"

He growled and took a few steps towards her, his eyes dark and livid, "Do not flatter yourself, woman. I am here because the bots failed again due to your massive stupidity!"

Even though it was late and she wanted to sleep, Bulma was not about to let anyone insult her work. She took every project very seriously, and took his words as a personal offense. She drew herself up and glared evenly at him. "That is not possible. No way those bots failed. I saw to it myself that they worked, Vegeta."

"They are destroyed again! Can't you build something that lasts, you incompetent fool!" he yelled at her.

"Oh, so you _destroyed _the bots," Bulma said, pronouncing her words as if she was speaking to a child. She frowned at him. "Well, that's not a failure on _my_ part, buddy."

The prince clenched his fists and glared at her. This woman was so completely infuriating. Of all the people he could have lodged with on this mudball planet, how the hell had he wound up living under the same roof as this woman?

At the very least, couldn't she have been less attractive? She had changed into a white halter top with snug black shorts that were incredibly indecent. The sight of her exposed, perfect legs kept tempting his eyes and his hands. He wanted to see her loose and gorgeous hair drenched with sweat as she screamed his name.

"It _is_ your fault," he sneered through clenched teeth, his intense desire for her only pissing him off even more, "And I order you to make me new ones at once!"

"You don't get to come into my bedroom and order me to do anything! It's three in the goddamn morning, Vegeta!" Bulma shouted at him, tossing her purse onto her bed. She started kicking off her heels, internally debating on grabbing one and throwing it right at the jerk's head.

Vegeta seethed, his fists trembling from his rage, "Woman, when I give you an order, you better fucking shut your mouth and follow that ord-"

"You have some fucking nerve coming in here and demanding thin-!"

"Someone ought to remind you of your pla-!"

"You're in MY room, you bast-!"

"If we were on my home planet, I would have you behead-!"

"I would've punched you in the face befo-!"

Her cell phone ringing interrupted their screaming match. They both turned to glare at the device on the bed, having tumbled out of her purse when she threw it. Bulma instinctively walked over to grab it, at least to silence it, but it was snatched up before she could. The sound was so grating on Vegeta's hearing, and he was so completely enraged with the woman in front of him, that he hurled the cell phone against the wall, effectively breaking it to Bulma's horror.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" Bulma screamed at him, hitting him as hard as she could on his back. She might as well have been a fly trying to dent a truck for all the good it did. "That was my phone! What is your goddamn _problem, _Vegeta!" Bulma yelled, infuriated with his behavior.

"YOU ARE MY PROBLEM!" he suddenly roared as he spun around to face her.

Bulma blinked and instinctively began backing up away from him. The heiress squeaked a little when she tripped over something on the floor, stumbling back until her back hit the wall. Unfortunately, Vegeta was advancing on her the entire way. His whole body was trembling as he stared at her with dark eyes that were drinking her in with a lust that she had never seen before in her life.

Finally, he cornered her. He put a palm on either side of her head, effectively trapping her. His breathing was heavy as he eyed her up and down. Bulma shuddered as his body heat from his training session radiated off him and enveloped her.

"Everything about you is my problem…" he growled in a deep, predatory voice. Bulma swallowed before resuming her breathing which was now heavier as well. Being on the other end of Vegeta's heated gaze was quickly making her dizzy with lust for him.

"Vegeta…" she breathed out in a whispered moan, her voice betraying how badly she wanted him.

Vegeta hungrily brought his lips down on hers as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, pulling him in closer. Their kiss was frantic as his tongue fought against hers for dominance. He pressed his body against hers and pinned her to the wall, making her moan deliciously into his mouth as she felt herself drowning in his body heat. She slid one hand up into his hair and he growled in response, continuing to explore her hot, inviting mouth again and again and again.

Bulma let one hand trail down to his bare shoulder and then down the side of his torso, caressing his flawless physique, her touch cool on his scorching hot skin. Vegeta groaned his approval into her mouth, her touch turning him on even more if that was even possible. He pulled away from her and she had barely registered the loss of his heat before he grabbed her top with one hand and ripped everything off with one tear, leaving her completely topless.

Bulma whimpered as he immediately pulled her away from the wall, wrapping one strong arm around her waist and easily lifting her up against him, hooking one arm under her leg. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around him, her hands on both sides of his face as she resumed their kiss.

A moment later, the Saiyan unceremoniously dropped her on the bed and was instantly on top of her, both of them moaning at the same time as he lowered his body against hers. Vegeta was so lost in her scent and her touch that he wouldn't have sensed if Frieza himself had walked in at that moment…

"Wait," Bulma suddenly breathed out, pulling away from him. He growled angrily, looking down at her in frustration. She wanted to chat _now? _His eyes were so hypnotic and filled with so much passion, that Bulma almost said screw it, but she stubbornly refused to dodge the subject. "Don't you want to use a condom?"

Vegeta scowled, thinking of that bizarre contraption. He wanted that thing nowhere near his manhood.

But…the risk…

"You consume those small white tablets?"

"Yes," she instantly answered, biting her bottom lip.

"How reliable are they?"

"Very."

They stared at each other, lust dancing in both of their eyes with minimal restraint. Vegeta was visibly shaking from his overwhelming need, internally debating with himself. He had never taken a risk like this before, even one as small as this.

"I…don't know…"

"They're extremely reliable. It'll be okay. Trust me," she finally told him, not able to stand seeing him hovering over her like this anymore. She wanted him, and she wanted him _now. _

Vegeta instantly descended on her again, silently taking her word for it. He immediately knew he made the right decision when he felt her soft hands up and down his bare back, going up and clenching handfuls of his hair, desperately pulling him closer as he ravaged every inch of her… it was marvelous and delicious and he was surrendering to every single moment of it. Surrendering to her.

Surrender had never felt so good.


	16. Answers

Not having slept a second, Vegeta lay on his back in the darkness of Bulma's bedroom several hours later, his hands folded behind his head. He listened to her melodic breathing against his skin while he stared at the ceiling. She had practically entwined herself with him, and now he couldn't leave without waking her up. Telling himself he didn't want to hear her whining and bitching about him leaving, he chose to remain still and wait for her to get off of him. It had nothing at all to do with how soothing her presence and touch was, or the way her scent seemed to ease the eternal tension that was always tight on his body.

The pill had worked. He had focused with all his discipline, but he couldn't sense anyone else's ki in the room except for hers. Even though it would be ridiculously early, there was no doubt in Vegeta's mind that any child with his blood would have a ki strong enough for him to detect. The woman had been right though, and he was still free from the burden.

But now what?

He turned his head to look at the time on the nightstand next to her bed. As soon as he did, Bulma snuggled up closer to him, resting her head on his chest and wrapping her arm around his waist. She sighed against him, sending a chill down his back. Vegeta scowled deeply at this; it didn't seem like she was going to let him go anytime soon.

Not for the first time, he mentally cursed himself for having been so weak and surrendering to her. Now what was she going to expect from him? He couldn't kill her off - that was definitely out of the question, as it had always been. In fact, the thought of causing her any type of physical pain almost made him feel sick with disgust. Even if he didn't need her anymore, he didn't think he could bring himself to do it. Not anymore.

That realization unnerved him - what in the world was this woman doing to him? She was making him soft, and he was _not _soft. He had to leave immediately before she got deeper under his skin. He reached down in an attempt to peel her off of him. She just tightened her hold on him, making him instinctively growl in frustration. The damn woman was stubborn even in her sleep. He tried again, this time grabbing her wrist.

As luck would have it, she stirred this time. He instantly froze, his hand on her wrist.

"Mmm...where're you goin'?" Bulma asked tiredly, her voice scratchy from sleep. Vegeta had never heard her voice like this before, and it made his breath catch in his throat. It took every bit of discipline he had not to just turn them around and take her again. He took a moment to regain his composure, wondering all the while how he managed to get into this situation in the first place.

"Shower," he finally responded gruffly, wanting to wash the weakness that was Bulma Briefs off his body. He knew she would ask him to stay though, and he mentally prepared his response. There was no way in hell he would grant her that request.

Bulma kept her eyes closed, listening to his strong heartbeat. The way his voice rumbled in his chest made her skin tingle. She relished the feel of him so close to her and etched every detail of this perfect moment into her memory. He had been everything she wanted and then some. The satisfaction and peace she felt at this moment went much deeper what she had ever felt with Yamcha, settling itself far beyond just physical relief and into something more fulfilling.

"You can use my shower."

"Do not be absurd," he growled.

"Alright, alright, no purple shower for you, tough guy," she relented playfully, yawning and reluctantly drawing herself away from him. Vegeta's scowl turned into a look of genuine surprise; she wasn't asking him to stay? He was so caught off guard by this, that he almost didn't know what to do. The Saiyan prince sat up and watched her in confused silence, wondering if this was a trick as she rolled onto her side, giving him her back. Grabbing an extra pillow, she hugged it tightly. The pillow felt freezing cold compared to her very warm-blooded Saiyan, but it would have to do.

There was no motion and no sound for a few long seconds. Finally, Bulma heard the bed shift as he climbed out. She looked over her shoulder and watched him as he picked up his discarded shorts. Smiling a little at the show he was giving her and now fully awake, she rolled back over onto her other side. Goodness, the man was physical perfection. Vegeta felt her eyes ravaging him but he ignored her, silently pulling up his shorts. Bulma bit her bottom lip as she watched.

"Vegeta?" she asked as he navigated the mess on her floor in search for his shoes. Visible tension gripped Vegeta's shoulders at the soft pronunciation of his name, but he still ignored her. Bulma ran her tongue over her teeth as he found his shoes and socks. He picked them up, not bothering to put them on since he was going to shower anyways. Finally annoyed with her silence, he shot her an impatient glare.

"Well, what is it? I do not have all day, woman," he said tersely.

"Will you come back?"

"No," he immediately replied, turning and heading towards her balcony door. "I will shower and then I must get back to my training."

"Well, I knew _that_," Bulma said, rolling her eyes. His eyes narrowed angrily in response, but he still didn't look back at her as he slid the door open. "Kami knows you hardly ever do anything else. I meant, you know...later."

Vegeta stood still as stone, staring out into the orange dawn sky. He visibly hesitated, before looking at her warily out of the corner of his eye. "...Later?"

"Yeah, when you're done training for the day," Bulma clarified, her voice much more confident than she felt. Odds were highly against her here, but she had to try. Taking a steady breath, she soothed her nerves and asked what was on her mind.

"Will you come back later tonight?"

The prince turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow as he studied her. The beautiful heiress was sitting up in her bed, clutching her pillow, her blue hair darkened with a hint of sweat as it laid in lazy, wavy curls on her shoulders. She gave him a smile, and there was a tug inside Vegeta's chest to go back to her.

He realized with some frustration that instead of satisfying his desire for her, he might have only ignited it.

Scowling, he looked back outside.

"...I will consider it."

Without a glance back, Vegeta walked out onto the balcony. Practically glowing in happiness, Bulma fell back on her bed, clutching her pillow tightly to her face to stifle her shriek of sheer joy.

If the early morning events were any indication, today was going to be a great day.

* * *

Bulma was humming the tune of her favorite song as she strolled into the kitchen later that day. Her parents were seated at the table enjoying their lunch together, and they both brightened at the sight of their daughter. Dr. Briefs' smile had a hint of puzzlement in it. He hadn't seen his daughter so radiant in a long time.

"Hey guys! What's for lunch?" Bulma asked brightly, eyeing the food on the table as she walked past it. She headed to the refrigerator, opening it while she hummed happily.

"Oh, I made some turkey sandwiches dear," Bunny replied, equally bright. "Sit down and join us."

"Yes, join us, Bulma," Dr. Briefs said, lifting up his sandwich. "And do tell us what has you in such a great mood today."

"Nothing, just enjoying the day," his daughter said, bent over and peering into the fridge, a satisfied smirk on her face.

"Why, I bet it has to do with Vegeta! I heard you and that handsome boy having fun last night," Bunny giggled. Bulma released a strange, almost inhuman squawking sound of horror, her cheeks reddening furiously as she turned to gawk at her mother.

"Mom!" she hissed.

"Well, dear, it simply _must _have been Vegeta. Your father and I never heard you with Yamcha-"

"Oh Kami, just shoot me down right now, please," Bulma mumbled, a hand on her forehead. She thanked her lucky stars that Vegeta wasn't there at that moment, though she had a sneaking suspicion he would be wearing that annoying smirk of his.

"Well if it's any consolation, dear, I didn't hear anything," Dr. Briefs said with a chuckle, lifting a glass of tea as Bulma came and sat down beside him.

"No, Dad, it's not much consolation," Bulma said sarcastically, her blush still prominent on her features.

"So, you and Vegeta, eh?" Dr. Briefs mused out loud, immediately drawing his daughter's attention.

"Dad, don't you even _think _about giving Vegeta _the talk_," the heiress said, raising one finger in warning and staring a hole through her father. "I'm a grown woman, and I can make my own decisions about who I choose to be with, so I don't want to hear it-"

"Bulma, dear, I didn't even say anything," Dr. Briefs said in his lazy drawl. He smiled a little, "Honestly, I think he'll be good for you."

"...Oh," Bulma replied, not knowing what to say to that. She had expected her father to have some concerns about her seeing Vegeta of all people, but he had instead sided with her mother in being supportive. It was just as well. She didn't need their approval, but it was nice to have.

"Yes, but aside from your love life, dear, how's the virtual reality sim coming along?"

"Almost there," Bulma said, her smile coming back at the thought of her favorite project. "Just a few more tweaks and we'll be good to go."

"Good work, dear. We'll arrange for a presentation for the military when you're done. I'm getting calls nonstop asking for progress, but I'm keeping the hounds away from you."

"Oh, sweetie, why don't you invite Vegeta along to watch your presentation? Then you could have a handsome escort!" Bunny said brightly, getting up and going over to the fridge.

Bulma guffawed at the thought of Vegeta going to such an event. It was such an outrageous idea - she couldn't even picture it. "Oh _puh-leeze_," she scoffed. "That jerk would say never go to something like that, unless I planted bombs in his precious gravity room and blew it to smithereens. Even then, he'd be such a pain in the ass that it wouldn't be worth it."

"Well, dear, you'll never know if you never ask."

"Look guys, it really doesn't matter," Bulma explained, taking a quick glance out the window towards the gravity chamber. "I don't need an escort anyways."

Bunny came over with a batch of cupcakes, putting it in front of them. "Here you go! I made these last night. Have a few, my dears. But save some for Vegeta! That handsome boy has a healthy appetite!"

"I thought we were saving these for the party tonight," Dr. Briefs said, eyeing the cupcakes carefully to decide which would taste the best.

"Oh no, I have a whole batch still in the fridge for that!"

Bulma's brows furrowed together curiously. "You guys are going out tonight?"

"Yes, the party for the students working in the Crest Lab is tonight, and we were invited...don't you remember dear? You said you weren't interested in going."

"Oh, right, right," Bulma agreed with a nod, reaching for a cupcake. She couldn't help the smirk that crept over her face at the thought of being alone in the enormous compound with her handsome Saiyan. "Well you guys have fun tonight then."

"You too dear," Dr. Briefs said warily, seeing that mischievous look on his daughter's face. He wanted to ask what was going on in that head of hers, but honestly, he was scared to find out.

"Oh, don't worry... I will."

* * *

Vegeta grabbed one of his fried training bots, tossed it a few feet in the air with his left hand, and then instantly disintegrated it with a ki blast from his right hand. Bending down, he picked up the next bot off the grass and repeated the process. He was beyond these things, and didn't feel like they were helping him advance. Not only that, but Kakarot hadn't needed such methods; the third-class dog had only used the gravity simulator to achieve the legendary ascension. And so would he.

Besides, if it meant having to deal with that woman less, then he was all game. He scowled at the thought of her. The woman was like a virus, infiltrating his every thought. He was having a very hard time focusing on what he needed to do, which pissed him off. If there was something he prided himself in, it was his tremendous discipline and focus. When he wanted something done, he had tunnel vision and focused completely on achieving that one goal. Bulma threw all of that out the window, constantly there in the back of his mind.

He closed his eyes and rotated his neck in an effort to crack it. This woman was such a nuisance. He should've just left her with her injured arm that day on the grass, and allowed her to continue to ignore him.

Vegeta frowned and opened his eyes when he sensed her approaching.

_Speak of the devil..._

Bulma was crossing the grass over to the gravity chamber, carrying a small plate of cupcakes in one hand, humming the entire way. She didn't want to press Vegeta or anything, having the suspicion that he would shut her out in a heartbeat if she came off as remotely needy or clingy. Though that wasn't her style anyways, she still didn't want to chance it. She would've left him alone the whole day to let him think, but then she had remembered the entire reason he showed up in her bedroom in the first place - his training bots. Bulma figured the prince was more likely to tolerate her if that was the reason why she was coming to see him.

She also figured some food wouldn't hurt. After all, her mother had always told her that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach. She smiled a little. Even if he was standoffish, she still wanted to see him. Everything about Vegeta drew her in, from his powerful body to his manly scent to his dark eyes that had color and depth no one could see unless they were close to him. Her stomach fluttered a little at the reminder that she was the only one who was that close to him...

Her train of thought was rudely interrupted by something slimy suddenly landing on top of her foot. Looking down, Bulma screamed when she saw a familiar invader in her backyard, bobbling her plate of cupcakes. With a frightened shriek, she shook the frog off her foot and then kicked it as hard as she could, sending it soaring head over legs into the air.

As soon as the frog reached the top of its flight trajectory, a beam of ki sliced through the air, disintegrating the frog on the spot. Bulma gasped a little, before looking over and seeing Vegeta coming around from behind the gravity chamber. He gave her a cold glare. His plan had been to remain on the other side of the gravity chamber until the blasted woman walked back the way she came, but her screams grated on his nerves.

"Aww, Vegeta," Bulma swooned, a huge, dreamy smile on her face. A look of confusion came over the prince's face. Why was she looking at him like that? Was she ill? "You got rid of that frog for little, old me?"

Vegeta snorted, rolling his eyes. "Woman, you are completely insane. I only wanted to save my hearing. You sounded like a wounded animal screeching its last breath."

Bulma's lovestruck smile disappeared at his words, before melting into an even glare. Vegeta leaned his shoulder against the gravity chamber, his dark eyes conveying a barely restrained hint of amusement at seeing her anger come to life. She was such an annoying woman, but he would never grow tired of getting a rise out of her.

"Well fine then, you jerk. Maybe I'll take back my invitation from this morning," she growled at him. The Saiyan raised an eyebrow in curiosity. He had only meant to tell her to get lost so he could resume his training in peace, but he couldn't help his growing intrigue.

"I don't recall being invited last night, but you didn't appear to have a problem with my presence," Vegeta said, a slow but wicked smirk spreading over his features. Bulma blinked in surprise, before smirking herself. Well, if that's how he wanted to play...

"If I recall correctly, _you _were the one who couldn't keep your hands off me, my prince," Bulma told him in a smug tone. She sighed dramatically, tossing her loose hair back over her shoulder and putting her free hand on her waist. "But, who can blame you, really? I _am _completely irresistible."

He snorted, his eyes burning into hers. "I've had better."

A lie, of course.

But she didn't need to know that.

"HA!" Bulma exclaimed, smirking playfully. "Dream on, buddy. I'm the best you've had, and you know it. Hell, last night, I even made you-"

"Enough!" Vegeta hissed, his eyes narrowing angrily, a shade of pink coloring his cheeks. "Do you want your parents to hear, you stupid woman?"

_Oh, lover, you have no idea what they hear, _Bulma thought, smiling at the way he was visibly getting flustered. "Oh, no one can hear us out here," she told him, rolling her eyes as she walked over to him. He instantly tensed, defensively crossing his arms over his chest and looking away. "Quit being such a stick in the mud."

Vegeta blinked in surprise and looked back at her. He cocked his head to the side, his brows furrowing together and his eyes softening with confusion. Bulma resisted throwing herself on him and kissing him wildly; goodness, even the smallest mannerism made him look so enticing.

"I am not a stick, and we are nowhere near mud," Vegeta stated matter-of-factly. "Unless you're qualifying your entire planet as being one giant mudball, in which case I would agree."

"It's just a saying, Vegeta," Bulma explained with a patient smile. "Basically, it means you need to lighten up. You're so uptight all the time! Live a little, buddy. Life is short, you know."

"Yes, and it's even shorter if you're a weakling," he growled angrily. "I must resume my training."

Bulma sighed. "Alright, well, let me take a look at those bots. Here, you could have these cupcakes my mom made while I look at them."

"There is no need, woman," Vegeta told her with a hard glare. "Now stop pestering me already."

"What do you mean there's no need?" Bulma asked, unfazed by the fierce look he was giving her. "You're the one who barged into my room last night asking-"

"I assure you, that mistake will not be repeated," the Saiyan prince hissed, wishing to be rid of her already.

Bulma's smile and good mood both slowly washed away, leaving her feeling cold even though they were both standing in the sunlight. Now she had her answer that he hadn't given her in the morning, hanging out there clear to see. Of course, leave it to Vegeta to make a genius of her caliber feel completely stupid. Was she really expecting more from him? Pursing her lips together, she quickly regained her composure, quite aware that his eyes were still on her.

"Well, alright, if that's what you want," she said, with a look like she didn't care, even though she couldn't help but care. She knew she needed to be patient, but she just wasn't. She cared, and cared too much. With a sigh, she picked up a cupcake. "I suppose I'll just see you around then." She turned away and headed back inside, taking a bite into her cupcake. Nothing like chocolate to make her feel better after all.

Vegeta stared at her blankly as she walked away from him, lowering his arms to his sides and frowning in confusion. The woman was so overbearing when she wanted to be, but in this, she wasn't pressing him at all. She hadn't even talked about what had went down between them the night before. Wasn't that what women did - gripe on and on about emotional garbage?

Not Bulma though. Even when her relationship had dissolved with that scarfaced loser, it dawned on Vegeta that he had never seen her upset or broken up about it. She would force him to do certain things, like go on that stupid shopping trip, but she wasn't forcing him to be with her. He had no idea what to make of that. If she had come off begging him to be with her, to stay in bed with her and talk to her, or bitching that he wasn't coming back that night, then it'd be easy. He had no patience for any of that and would tell the woman to fuck off in a heartbeat.

Instead, here they were. He should have been thrilled, but he was utterly confused, and more than a little frustrated. Vegeta hissed in exasperation, before turning and heading back inside the gravity chamber.

Might as well get back to things that actually made sense to him.

* * *

Later that night, Bulma was enjoying the silence of the empty compound. Her parents were out for the evening, Vegeta was training in his gravity room, and all the Capsule Corporation employees had left for home. She had made considerable progress on all of her projects, and had decided to reward herself with a nice, relaxing evening, complete with hot tea and a good book from her family's library. The world as she knew it was set to end in less than two years now, and little pleasures like these weren't assured to her after that time. She figured she might as well enjoy her time while she had it.

Laying on the sofa on her stomach, clad in shorts and a snug tank top, she kicked her feet up lazily, completely engrossed in her romance novel.

"Oh come on!" she growled, her brows furrowing together in frustration as she turned the page. "She wants you, idiot! Open your eyes already!"

"They say that talking to yourself is a sign of insanity, you know," a gruff voice said from behind her.

Startled, Bulma looked over her shoulder. Vegeta was standing in the doorway to the living room, standing perfectly straight with his arms crossed securely over his chest. Maybe it was the way the lighting came in from behind him, or maybe she was noticing his impeccable posture for the first time, but it suddenly struck her how completely regal he looked. Even though he was now dressed casually in khaki pants and a simple t-shirt, he was the epitome of a prince.

She couldn't help but smile at him. "I'm reading a book, dork."

He frowned at this new word that she called him, but he had much more pressing matters that needed to be dealt with. The sooner he did so, the sooner he could leave. Vegeta grunted and looked off to the side, choosing to glare at the side wall so he wouldn't look at the extremely indecent and enticing view her shorts were offering him.

"I do not care what you are doing. What matters is that your mother is not here and I require nourishment immediately."

"Ooh," Bulma teased, her smile melting into a smirk as she turned back to her book. She kicked up her feet again and crossed them at the ankles, curling her toes playfully when she felt his eyes turn back on her. "Well now, that is a problem indeed. Now what are you going to do?"

Vegeta growled angrily in response, taking one step closer to her. "Woman, I order you to prepare me something to eat at once!"

"You didn't ask me nicely," Bulma said in a sing-song tone. Behind her, she could hear him hiss furiously.

"You will do it if you know what's good for you. Do _not _make me repeat myself," he snarled at her, clenching his fists tightly.

"Will you please make me dinner, Bulma?" she prompted, completely ignoring his threat as she continued to read her novel while they were having this discussion.

"Fine," he sneered, livid now. "I'll just do it myself then."

He then turned and furiously marched back into the kitchen. Bulma just rolled her eyes, turning back to her book. Honestly, was it so hard for him to ask for something politely? Did everything always have to be threat after threat, demand after demand? Granted, he was a genuine prince, but that didn't make her his slave either.

A few moments later, Bulma heard things banging and clashing in the kitchen. There was a stream of infuriated cursing, and then more banging and clashing. With a groan, Bulma closed her book, deciding she'd go and put him out of his misery before he wrecked her kitchen.

"Okay, okay!" Bulma cried out, walking into the kitchen. Vegeta was holding a gallon of milk in one hand, and a box of macaroni and cheese in the other that he was reading. He lowered both when she came in and fixed her with a fierce glare. She couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him so agitated. She walked over to him and removed the milk and box from his hands as he stared a hole through her the entire time. "Look, I'll just order us some pizza, okay?" she said with another laugh.

The slightest hint of confusion cracked Vegeta's glare. "Pizza?"

"Oh, you haven't had any yet! Oh you're going to love it, Vegeta," she told him, giving him a dazzling smile that made him briefly forget what had angered him so much. "Once you try pizza, you'll never want to leave Earth again."

"Whatever, just make it fast," he mumbled, brushing past her and leaving the kitchen altogether. Bulma rolled her eyes and sighed at his departure. That man was so difficult. She turned and went to find the nearest phone in the house to place the order, deep down pleased that she wasn't going to spend the entire night alone like she had originally thought...

It was amazing what one could accomplish when letting it slip that a substantial tip awaited a speedy delivery. Bulma lowered her cup of tea not even fifteen minutes after placing the order for their late dinner when she heard the doorbell ring throughout the compound. Growling in agitation at having her reading interrupted again, she got up to answer. She brought her book along with her as she slowly walked to the front door.

Lowering her book, she opened the door only to come face to face with a stack of fifteen pizza boxes. She laughed as she tossed her book aside, taking the boxes in her hands, "Wow! This definitely deserves a nice tip."

"Thanks, Ms. Briefs," the teenage delivery boy said with a smile. Bulma gave him a playful wink, before turning and heading back over to her coffee table. The teenager exhaled slowly, eyeing her from behind, appreciating the view. "Damn, she's so fucking hot," he whispered under his breath as Bulma bent over to put the boxes of pizza down. "I'd so hit that-"

The next thing he knew, there was an animalistic snarl cutting through the air. Before the teenager could react, he was knocked down to the concrete, a steel grip around his throat. Bulma turned at the sound of the boy's frightened cry.

"Bad move, kid," Vegeta sneered in the terrified boy's face. He pulled back his free hand, curling it into a deadly fist. This was just too easy. "Looks like someone needs to teach you some fucking respect-"

"Vegeta!" Bulma shrieked, grabbing the prince's wrist. "What the hell are you doing! Let the kid go!" Vegeta eyed her out of the corner of his eye, scowling as he did. When she saw that he wasn't letting go, she put her free hand on his back. Leaning forward until she could make real eye contact with him, she tried again. "Will you please let him go?" she asked him gently.

He stared into her eyes for a few moments, before growling in frustration and looking away. Slowly, his grip loosened. The teenager immediately clambered up to his feet, raising both hands in innocence as he panted for air. "Hey, you two just, keep your money, okay? Pizza's on me," the teenager got out, his words practically tripping over themselves as he scurried back to his car.

As soon as the car was out of sight, Bulma punched Vegeta as hard as she could in the shoulder as they both got up to their feet. "What the hell was that about, Vegeta! You almost killed him!"

The prince merely gave an indifferent shrug, not making eye contact with her. How could he explain the sudden fury he felt when he heard the boy's words? How could he put into words the intense possessiveness that had shot through him like lightning at the thought of another male looking at Bulma the way that boy had? It wasn't fucking rational at all! She meant _nothing _to him!

He struggled with these new feelings raging inside of him, before spitting out in a terse voice, "The brat needed to learn some damn respect. Just give thanks that I allowed the weakling to live."

He then brushed past her, more intrigued by the smell of this pizza that was waiting than by their conversation. He clenched his teeth tightly when he felt her on his heels every step of the way. Damn woman was so stubborn. "What did he even do to deserve that, huh?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Yes, it DOES matter! You can't just attack people like that when they upset you, Vegeta!" Bulma yelled.

"Why not?"

"Because," Bulma said, coming around him and putting a hand on his chest, stopping him. Vegeta tensed at the contact, his fists clenching instinctively as he fixed her with an angry glare. Bulma could feel his heart pounding furiously under her palm, and the strength of his heartbeat made her momentarily lose her train of thought. All she could think of was the morning, laying in bed with him with her entire world consisting of only that heartbeat. Releasing a deep sigh, she made eye contact with him. "Because it's wrong, and you could get into serious trouble. And then you'll have to leave, and..."

"And what?" Vegeta challenged in a low voice, not breaking their eye contact as he stepped closer to her. Into her touch. Silently demanding more. Bulma put her other hand on his chest as well, feeling his heart race even more. She took a brave step closer to him, fascinated by the story his eyes were telling.

"And I don't want you to leave."

"But I will," he assured her, his eyes narrowing. "After the androids are destroyed and Kakarot is buried in the dirt, I will leave this mudball planet for good. Whether or not the planet is destroyed entirely, I still haven't quite decided. You are not going to change my mind-"

"I meant before the androids come, Vegeta," Bulma clarified, stepping closer to him and running her hands up his chest in the process. A shudder of desire ran down Vegeta's spine as she put her arms around his neck. "You can do whatever you want after you guys take care of those metal losers. But in the meantime, I'd really like it if you stayed out of trouble so you could stay here. I kinda like you being here," she told him with a lighthearted and lazy smile.

Vegeta just grunted, knowing he was going to give in again. It was close to impossible to resist her, not when he knew every inch of her body and every touch that body had to offer. He scowled at the emotion in her eyes, at that gentle look that he just couldn't get used to.

"None of this means a damn thing to me, woman," he told her gruffly, his face inches from hers. "Just so we're clear on that."

"Whatever you say, dear prince..." Bulma teased, before pulling away from him. Vegeta immediately released a deep breath, his body relaxing as she walked over to the pizza. "Come on, let's eat. I bet you're starving, huh?" she asked, opening up a box. The smell was overwhelming to him. He raised a curious eyebrow, his stomach growling in anticipation as he headed over.

They ate mostly in silence, due to the fact that Vegeta was consuming his pizza at an alarming rate. Bulma was a bit hungry herself, but she couln't keep up with him. By the time she had finished two slices, the Saiyan had already consumed three entire boxes. They were both seated together on the sofa, on opposite ends. She didn't care though. It wasn't exactly the most romantic setting, but she was still happy to be there with him.

Bulma had another two slices, and then watched as Vegeta went to town on the rest of the pizza. It only took him three bites to get through each slice, and before she knew it, he cleaned out the last box. He shot her a glance, finally noticing her watching him.

"What are you looking at?" he sneered angrily.

"Did you like it?"

"Hn," he grunted, putting the last box aside. He gave an indifferent shrug as he cleaned off his hands with a napkin. She smiled at how orderly he was. The empty pizza boxes were stacked in a neat pile, and he hadn't made a mess at all. "It was decent."

Bulma was starting to realize that the Saiyan was not one for compliments, and that "decent" or "adequate" was about as good as it got with him. "Yeah, yeah, you know you liked it," she laughed, getting up to put everything away while Vegeta silently watched her. She went and collected all the garbage, before heading out to throw it all out.

When she came back into the living room a minute later, Vegeta was gone. She sighed in disappointment, almost regretting that she had pulled away from him earlier. She had been so sure that he would want her again, that she had let him eat first since she knew he was hungry. Brushing it off, she looked around for her book. Might as well see if things worked out for _that _girl, since things were bumpy on her end. Hell, he hadn't even said goodbye.

Finally, she located her book, tossed aside on the floor. She bent down to pick it up when she heard his voice.

"Woman."

Bulma looked up instantly to see Vegeta at the top of the stairs. His shirt and boots now discarded, he glared down at her for a few moments, visibly waging an internal war.

"Yeah?" she asked, her heart suddenly racing in anticipation.

He exhaled slowly, before looking off to the side. "...Your room is a mess. Mine is better."

He then turned and walked off in the direction towards his bedroom, without a look back. Bulma blinked a few times, wondering if she had misheard. Finally, a smile as radiant as the sun spread over her face.

She finally got her answer.


	17. Short Lived

Bulma wouldn't say the routine she and Vegeta fell into was perfect by any means, but it was still pretty damn good. Granted, aside from their first night together, he was always gone when she woke up. And there was also the fact that he suddenly started avoiding her and her family like the plague during the day, opting to stay locked up in his gravity room. She didn't mind that _too_ much since she had her own work to keep up with, and she simply figured that Vegeta needed some time to get used to things.

Every night, she would wait for him in his bedroom, and he never seemed surprised to see her there when he finally came in from his training. They wouldn't exchange many words, if any, choosing to simply give in to each other and make love (in his newly soundproofed room). It was, without a doubt, the best sex of her life. Then the sun would rise and they would wash, rinse, and repeat.

No, it wasn't perfect, but Bulma was still pleased. The settled down tension between them, the magnificent, mind-blowing sex, the steps she was taking towards solving the mystery that was Vegeta… it was all so incredibly wonderful.

And, as it turned out, it was also incredibly short-lived.

Unable to rationalize his own weakness for the blue-haired heiress, and feeling deeply ashamed that he actually _wanted _her to be waiting for him every night, Vegeta threw himself into his training with a renewed and dangerous obsession. It had been five whole days since he had invited the woman to his bed, and he hadn't slept for one second during those five days. He would stay in bed until she passed out from exhaustion, which usually didn't take too long. Then he would get up, take a quick shower, and then train until his body couldn't take any more punishment, every day pushing harder and harder.

And every day, nothing happened: no legendary ascension, no enormous leap in his physical abilities, _nothing _except his body feeling like it was going to break. The complete lack in his progress made him want to scream. _How _had that fool Kakarot actually managed the legendary transformation having trained in only 100 times Earth's gravity? Here he was, training regularly in _at least _400 times Earth's gravity, and he was getting nowhere. He was stagnant and it was killing him from the inside as doubt started to slowly consume him.

Shouldn't he have made his transformation already?

What if he just couldn't do it?

As soon as those thoughts would start to creep in, he turned to Bulma. For a few hours each night, she made him feel like the strongest person in the universe instead of the embarrassment he was becoming: the proud, powerful Saiyan Prince who was outclassed by a low ranked, third class Saiyan. Bulma took that feeling of failure away from him and made him feel like a man again, if only for a little while. The sex was his blissful escape, and Bulma herself was his refuge.

He both needed and hated her for that.

It was the sixth night now, and Vegeta was completely exhausted. Feeling particularly raw that night, he and Bulma had gone at it especially rough, as rough as she could handle anyways. For the first time, Bulma's romantic fantasy blinders had fallen and she had finally sensed that something wasn't quite right with him. Vegeta had instantly silenced her concern with a growl and a heated, dominant kiss that she had readily surrendered to.

Now he was laying on his back, fighting a losing battle against his fatigue. His lack of sleep, his intense training, and his heated workout sessions with Bulma, it was all starting to catch up to him in a hurry. He stared up at the ceiling, still slightly out of breath as he waited for Bulma's breathing to settle so he could leave, his eyelids growing heavier by the second.

_I'll just rest my eyes for a minute, _he thought tiredly, finally letting his eyes drift closed as Bulma wrapped herself up tightly against him. Her warmth enveloped him and eased his tension.

He was out in seconds.

* * *

_Bathing in the river was a beautiful sixteen-year-old girl with long, dark hair and brilliant green eyes. What captured the fourteen-year-old boy's attention the most, of course, was that she was bathing in the nude. Having never seen a naked female before, he was definitely enjoying the view. He leaned his shoulder up against the tree, watching her until she finally caught sight of him.  
_

_Startled, she modestly submerged herself in the water to cover the essentials. Vegeta raised an eyebrow.  
_

_"You work for Frieza," she finally said, taking in his uniform and his green scouter. He was short and lean, his hair standing up in a dark flame with bangs hanging at the front. His eyes were filled with hatred, showing an age beyond his years.  
_

_"I do."  
_

_"But you're just a little boy, Vegeta."_

_The prince snarled dangerously at that. Yes, he was short for his age, but he couldn't help it that the brutality he grew up under stunted his growth. _

_"I am a prince and man enough."_

_The girl studied him, a playful mischief in her eyes that was familiar for a reason he couldn't place. She submerged herself more in the water, dipping her head under before resurfacing while he watched in keen interest, his tail waving slowly behind him.  
_

_"Then why are you looking at me as if you've never seen a girl before, tough guy?" she teased him.  
_

_Vegeta blushed uncomfortably at that, struggling to think of what to say, before spitting out,__ "I've seen plenty of females."_

_She smiled at his obvious lie. He looked endearing with that crimson hue coloring his cheeks. _

_"Do you want to come in? You're dirty," she remarked, looking his blood-stained uniform over. "When's the last time you bathed there, bud? You need a bath."  
_

_Vegeta hesitated, looking at her warily as he tightened his crossed arms over his chest. He knew this girl somehow, from somewhere. Her name on the tip of his tongue. Frowning, he looked down at the blood entrenched in his uniform and still on his armor. __He had just finished a purge all by himself, killing everyone on the planet in less than half a day - a new record time in a sadistic game he had going with his fellow Saiyans. He had thought he was done and was ready to leave until he heard the ripples of the river nearby. Now faced with the source, he waged an internal war with himself; on the one hand, he was supposed to kill this girl to finish his purging assignment._

_On the other hand, she was gorgeous. He'd never felt an intimate touch, and he suddenly craved it. Figuring what the hell, he stripped down out of his armor and his uniform, albeit a little self-consciously when she turned to watch him. _

_He scowled at her, "What are you looking at, girl?" he demanded, his heart pounding for no good reason._

_"I suppose I spoke too soon when I called you a little boy."_

_Vegeta blushed again, but he was in the water before she could blink, ducking his head under to spare himself the embarrassment. When he emerged out of the water to find her close to him, his eyes widened. He shook the water off his head and hair, before nervously leaning back away from her when she leaned forward._

_For the first time in his entire life, Vegeta actually felt his age. _

_"Don't be afraid."_

_He scoffed. "I don't fear you, girl. I just..."  
_

_"You just?" _

_"I...I've never..."  
_

_"It's okay," she said, leaning forward and kissing him. His eyes widened in shock at the action, his mouth opening slightly while she took the lead. He tried desperately not to let his inexperience show, the intimacy of the action lost on him as he marveled at how...nice...it felt.  
_

_"So this is what Vegeta gets up to when he's sent on an assignment by himself. My, Frieza will sure be pleased."_

_Instantly parting away from the beauty in the water, Vegeta spun around in shock. Cursing under his breath, he gave the newcomers a look of pure contempt, his body instantly tensing at the sight of the two newest members of the Ginyu Force. _

_"What are you fools doing here?" he demanded harshly, his eyes flickering over to his scouter that was still in the grass, and he mentally cursed himself for being so stupid and taking it off. "This was my assignment and mine alone."_

_"Yes, it was," Jeice replied smoothly with a snicker, looking in curiosity over to the girl behind Vegeta. "We were already on the next planet over, so Lord Frieza told us to stop by and check up on ya."_

_"His little boy is all grown up it seems," Burter said with a laugh. Vegeta clenched his jaw tightly. "Going on assignments all alone..."_

_"Hey Vegeta, you mind sharing your new toy there with us?" Jeice asked with a smirk. "She sure is a doll."  
_

_The teenager's chest tightened. Though neither Jeice nor Burter were that much older than him, they were both much stronger and could make him a smear in the grass in seconds. Cursing under his breath, he slowly came over to the edge of the bank before pulling himself out of the water. He was barely standing when Burter disappeared and reappeared with the girl already grasped by the hair, making her shriek in pain. Vegeta blinked in disbelief over his sheer speed, before unconsciously growling. Jeice and Burter both burst out laughing at his response as Vegeta made eye contact with the girl. She gave him a terrified look that made him feel like a complete failure._

_Not because he couldn't save the girl - but because he wanted to. _

_Looking away, he grabbed his uniform and his armor and hastily starting to get dressed with shaking hands.  
_

_"Don't get dressed; we can all share her," Jeice teased him before laughing. _

_"Fuck off, Jeice," Vegeta snarled, roughly hauling his armor over himself. He should have killed the girl when he had a chance. He would've made it so fast, she wouldn't have even seen it coming. He knew better!  
_

_ Vegeta picked up his scouter, and turned to leave, knowing he was leaving the girl to a fate worse than death. But what could he do? His eye twitching involuntarily, he turned to take one last look at the girl and froze when he did. Impossibly, her __hair was now wavy and the color of the sky, and her green eyes had turned into the most beautiful shade of blue he'd ever seen in his life. _

_Her name finally came to him.  
_

_Bulma._

_He suddenly screamed in rage._

* * *

"Vegeta? Vegeta, wake up," Bulma said worriedly, looking down at Vegeta's agonized expression. He was starting to break into a sweat, and it had indeed been his skyrocketing body heat that had woken her up in the first place. She touched his face gently to bring him out of it.

As soon as contact was made, Vegeta's eyes snapped open. Before he could stop himself, he growled and instinctively seized the hand touching him, pulling the person who the hand belonged to close to him, his other hand already glowing with ki to blast their head off.

"Vegeta!" Bulma screamed in terror, just as he was about to fire. The Saiyan looked up at her, breathing heavily, and she was shocked at the lack of recognition that she saw in his dark eyes. She tried pulling her hand free, but his grip was iron tight and excruciating to boot. "Let me go!"

He blinked a few times, slowly realizing where he was. He was on Earth. He was with Bulma. Jeice and Burter were dead - by his hand. Suddenly embarrassed, he released her hand, easily dissipating the energy he had been ready to unleash with his other hand. Bulma pulled her throbbing hand to her and cradled it, shooting him an icy glare.

"You almost killed me, you jerk!"

Vegeta scowled in response, throwing aside the blankets and sheets, right into her face.

"Be thankful I haven't yet, woman," he sneered venomously, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to her. That way she wouldn't see how badly his hands were trembling. Bending over, he picked up his discarded training shorts to slip them on.

Bulma threw the blankets down with a growl. She was kneeling up in his bed now, wrapping one of the sheets around her body as she glared daggers at him from behind. "Geez, Vegeta! I was just trying to help you because you were having a night-"

"I didn't ask for your goddamned help," Vegeta snapped, quickly putting his shorts on before standing up. "I didn't ask for it, and I don't want it!" he borderline yelled, his heart pounding as he started relentlessly pacing back and forth in his bedroom. His hands went up through his hair, his mind a raw whirlwind from his exhaustion and his nightmare.

What was he _doing_?

Taking a deep breath to calm down, Bulma massaged her injured hand while studying him closely. She had _known _something was bothering him earlier that night; in retrospect, she should have followed her intuition. Taking a good look at him, she couldn't believe how haggard he looked. How had she not noticed sooner? Had she been that caught up in her fantasy romance world that she hadn't paid that much attention?

"Hey, look," she started saying, her tone much more considerate and almost guilty, "How about you take the day off from training and get some real rest-"

"Enough," he interrupted with a snarl, turning to finally face her. "Get out."

"But-"

Vegeta lifted his right hand in her direction, and it immediately started to glow with lethal ki.

"Now," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Bulma felt like she couldn't breathe when she saw the absolute hatred in his eyes. What she didn't know was that it wasn't directed at her. Deciding that this was one battle she would live to fight another day, she pulled herself up, taking one of his sheets with her to keep wrapped around her. Vegeta watched her get out of his bed before lowering his hand and turning away, satisfied that she was leaving. He strode over to the window in his room and drew the curtain back. He closed his eyes and leaned his head forward until his forehead was resting on the glass, one hand on each side of the windowpane. He sighed heavily.

Bulma looked over her shoulder at him just as she was about to leave. He was standing at the window, but she had never seen his posture look so defeated. His shoulders were slumped and he almost looked like he didn't have the strength to stand. Bulma bit her bottom lip, internally debating to leave or stay. Her brilliant analytical mind said to leave and let him work out whatever was wrong on his own. Her heart though ached at the sight of him. He looked so alone that it pained her.

Ten seconds later, she wrapped her arms around Vegeta from behind. Still holding onto his bed sheet, she effectively wrapped it around both of them, leaving her bare skin against his. His only response was an exasperated, slow exhale through his nose. He wasn't surprised by her stubbornness.

"You have a death wish, don't you?" he growled dangerously, though he made no effort to get her off him.

"I just don't want you to be alone."

"I've always been alone. I'm perfectly fine with that."

Bulma rolled her eyes, leaning into him from behind, resting her head against his bare back. He was always so _warm. _

"Well, you're not alone anymore, so deal with it, buddy."

Vegeta said nothing, simply letting the contact be. Her touch was comforting in a way that made him feel strong and weak at the same time.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bulma asked him gently. Her left hand was over his heart, which she could feel racing.

She was met with silence for several seconds. Finally, he lowered his arms and straightened.

"I have to get back to my training," he said, his tone emotionless as he pulled her hands off him. No sooner had he touched her right hand than Bulma winced and pulled her hand back from him. Turning around to face her, he could see that she was bravely trying not to show how much her hand was truly hurting as she wrapped the bed sheet around her.

She gave him a forced smile when she saw him look down at her aching hand, studying her injury intently.

"I'm fine," she finally assured him, not missing the brief hint of concern that flickered in his dark eyes.

Vegeta scowled, raising his eyes to meet hers. His lip twitched in disgust, before he sneered, "You mistake me for someone who cares."

"Of course you don't care, how silly of me," she said snidely as he turned her back on her. She muttered under her breath, "Pig-headed jerk."

"Insufferable wench."

Bulma growled indignantly at the insult, but by then, he had already opened and hopped out of his window down to the grass below, as though it was only a foot drop and not two stories. Frustrated by how difficult he was when she only wanted to help him, she closed the window shut so hard she almost broke the glass.

Damn, stubborn Saiyan.

Not able to go back to sleep even though the sun hadn't risen yet, Bulma decided she might as well get ready for the day. After taking a nice, comforting hot shower, she was annoyed to see that her hand was getting badly swollen and slightly discolored. Though she wanted to be angry with Vegeta about it, she knew it hadn't been intentional.

Rubbing her hand gingerly, she briefly wondered how wise it was to be sharing a bed with someone with a haunted past like Vegeta had. Only now did it sink in how close to death she had been, and at the hands of her lover no less. How embarrassing would that be? The tabloids would have a field day with that one for sure: _Billionaire heiress killed in bed by her alien prince lover! _

Well... she supposed there were always the Dragon Balls, if worse came to worse.

By the afternoon, she was wishing she had been more patient with him. Maybe if she had pressed him more, he would've opened up to her? Leaning back in her office chair, she took a glance over at the readings for the gravity room that she had now set up in her office. The simulator was engaged at its usual 450 times Earth's gravity. Sighing and not able to concentrate, much less work on her usual electronics with her hand still hurting, the heiress turned her attention to a pet project she'd been doing over the last two days.

Always ready to take a challenge when she saw one, Bulma had been working on designing brand new armor for Vegeta to wear when the androids arrived. The Saiyan had been so distracted lately, that he hadn't even noticed that she swiped his armor and uniform for a couple of days. It had only taken her a couple hours to design a new composite that would result in much stronger and much lighter armor for him, complete with golden metal links for his shoulders (unnecessary, but a nice stylish touch on her part). Not only that, but she had made the material for his uniform underneath much stronger to offer him a little more protection, and done the same with his gloves and boots.

Looking now at her finished product, she smiled in satisfaction and pride. He would definitely like this; hell, she might even get a smile out of him.

_Not to mention, he'll look so damn sexy wearing this new armor, _she thought to herself with a smirk. Yes, her prince was going to kick android ass when the time came...

Her office phone suddenly rang, snapping her out of her mental images of Vegeta wearing (and taking off) his new armor. Dashing out of her private lab back into her office, she snatched up her phone. "Yes?"

"Ms. Briefs," her secretary's voice came in, "Mr. Yamcha is here to see you."

Bulma briefly contemplated hanging up, but her ex-boyfriend was so annoyingly persistent. Quickly thinking over her options, she finally decided to hear what he had to say this time. Maybe telling him that things were getting a _little _more serious with Vegeta would get him off her back for good.

"Send him in," she said, hanging up and taking her seat.

Glancing briefly at the time on her laptop, she wondered if it was too early for a beer. She could sure use one right about now. Yamcha poked his head into his ex-girlfriend's office, a sheepish look on his face when she looked up and made eye contact with him. Oh yeah, a beer would be good about now.

"Hey B," he said, almost awkwardly.

Bulma sighed. "Come on in," she told him, gesturing for him to enter her office.

Yamcha didn't need to be told twice. Bulma leaned back in her office chair, observing him curiously. He had bags under his eyes, and she sighed at the sight of them. He came over to stand in front of her desk, before shoving his hands into his jean pockets.

"So...how've you been?" he asked.

"I'm okay, how are you? Looks like you haven't been getting much sleep. Are all your women keeping you up?"

Yamcha cringed, his face turning a deep shade of red. "Bulma, really. I don't want to keep fighting with you."

"Well, I never wanted to fight with _you,_" Bulma shot back. "I waited weeks for you to call me, what did you want me to do?"

Yamcha shifted uncomfortably, looking away from her challenging blue eyes. Bulma couldn't help but feel disappointed that he was already backing down. After getting used to having to go toe-to-toe on a consistent basis with Vegeta, she was starting to wonder how she had dated Yamcha for as long as she did. He could be such a pushover sometimes.

"Look, I've just been thinking...if you want to be with Vegeta..."

"I _am _with Vegeta," Bulma clarified, making Yamcha flinch. He swallowed heavily, looking as uncomfortable as he felt, before continuing.

"If that's how it is...then I support you," Yamcha forced himself to say. It wasn't that it wasn't true, because it was. But it would've been easier to accept if it wasn't _Vegeta_. That was neither here nor there though. He finally chanced a look back at Bulma, who was looking at him incredulously. He took a deep breath and continued, "Bulma, I miss you. You were my best friend... I want my best friend back."

"...Really?" Bulma asked, her blue eyes softening a little bit.

"Yeah, I mean," he stammered a little, blushing, "I still love you, you know. But, I guess I'd just rather us be friends than nothing. I just... I just miss you. That's all."

She could still read Yamcha like a book, and she could tell he was being genuine. She cracked a small smile; sure, he could be an asshole, but she had loved this man once and that counted for something. Yamcha visibly relaxed when he saw that smile.

"Well... I _suppose _a girl can never have too many friends," she told him playfully, giving him a wink.

Yamcha smiled, even though his heart ached. "Yeah, I guess that's true."

"Maybe we can get lunch and catch up sometime. It's been a while since we've talked."

His eyes brightened considerably at that. "I'd like that a lot...if, you know, Vegeta doesn't mind that is," he added, his smile suddenly becoming strained.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Vegeta only cares about a handful of things, and who I hang out with or what I do with my free time are _not _among those things. Trust me," she said, waving it off as if it wasn't a big deal.

Yamcha was about to respond when he suddenly noticed her hand. With Bulma's light complexion, the swelling and bruising on her right hand could be seen a mile away. Frowning, he took a couple of steps towards her.

"What happened to your hand, B?" he asked, his eyes concerned.

"Oh," Bulma said, having forgotten all about that. She looked at her hand and gave a shrug, though she did pull her hand back into her lap and out of sight. "It's nothing, don't worry about it," she said dismissively.

"Right." Yamcha's frown had melted into a glare. "I'm not stupid, you know. You can see the finger marks from here."

"Look, I'm perfectly fine," Bulma said, her tone having an edge to it when she saw how angry he was getting. "I'm not some little, pathetic flower that you need to protect. And don't you DARE go to Vegeta about this, you hear me?"

"So it _was _him," Yamcha sneered bitterly. "What else has he done to you, Bulma?"

_Oh, you don't want to know, _Bulma thought wickedly, a smirk tugging at her lips. She rolled her eyes at how dramatic he was being. "Um, hello? Do you know how strong Vegeta is? If he wanted to hurt me, he'd do a lot more than this. Besides, it was an accident. He didn't mean to hurt me."

"Uh huh," he said, disbelievingly. Bulma's eyes suddenly caught ablaze as she stood up. Though he was taller than her and much stronger than her, Yamcha felt like shrinking back when he saw that old, familiar rage burning.

"You had better not go to Vegeta about this, Yamcha. Promise me that you won't."

Yamcha scowled at her, before slowly nodding, his fingers crossed in his pocket.

"Alright, I promise."

* * *

Vegeta was pissed off as he worked relentlessly on his lightning fast punching combinations, his body covered with sweat. He had a horrible headache and he was completely exhausted from the unbearable forces he was training under, but he kept pushing with stubborn determination. If Kakarot could make this transformation, then why couldn't he? He was the Prince of all Saiyans; HE was the one with the royal blood, not that third-class dog. He could feel his frustration building, making him only work that much harder.

It would probably be easier if he wasn't thinking about Bulma every other second. He grinded his teeth together furiously. Damn woman was such a distraction.

But the worst part of it all was that he _allowed _it. He _let _her touch him, he _let _her push his buttons. His eye twitched involuntarily, the shame instantly flooding him. He was a prince; when had he lowered his standards this much? He should've used her and thrown her aside as soon as he got his fill of her, not continued to indulge in her like some goddamned love-struck fool. Now he was having nightmares featuring her. Hell, he had almost killed the stupid woman that morning.

Something tugged at him inside at the thought. If he hadn't regained control...

Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door to the gravity room. Vegeta scowled and looked over at the door through the corner of his eye. He was really getting sick and tired of all these fucking distractions. If only none of these Earthlings were around him so he could devote his time completely to his training.

His senses quickly placed the source as that scarfaced moron. That weakling wasn't worth responding to.

Until said weakling blew open the door to the gravity room, that is. Vegeta froze in mid-punch, his eyes wide in momentary shock at the audacity the fool had. Quickly recovering, Vegeta straightened and turned to face an irate Yamcha. The prince fixed him with a cold glare.

He was opening his mouth to say something when Yamcha cut in first, his fists clenched at his sides, "Vegeta, if you EVER touch Bulma again, I'll-"

"Do _what_, exactly?" Vegeta sneered, mistaking Yamcha's message as a threat to stop being intimate with Bulma. Though deep down he knew he should stop, it was none of Yamcha's business. "I'll have you know that I'll do what I want with whoever I want, fool. Now I suggest you leave before I finally put you out of your miserable existence."

Yamcha's face turned red from his rage, though he stayed at the doorway since the gravity simulator was still engaged. "I'll make you pay myself, you coward."

"_What _was that?" Vegeta snarled, taking a step towards him. Yamcha briefly lost his resolve, but he quickly regained his composure and met Vegeta's dangerous glare.

"I said I'll make you pay myself! If you turned off your damn gravity simulator, I'd do it right now!"

Without breaking eye contact with Yamcha, Vegeta raised his left hand out to his side and fired a ki blast that instantly destroyed the control panel to the gravity room. The forces in the room lifted at once, and Yamcha suddenly swallowed heavily as he took a wary step back.

"Please, do come in and make me pay."

"Look," Yamcha said, quickly trying to undo his mess, "I just want you to keep your hands off-"

"Enough. I think it's time I finish what I started," Vegeta said, his tone conversational, his eyes cold as ice. "And I promise, the woman won't save you this time."

Yamcha didn't have enough time to realize what was happening or get up any kind of defense before he was hit with a vicious ki blast.

Bulma was obliviously digging through her refrigerator, looking for something light to snack on before dinnertime, when the kitchen wall suddenly exploded next to her. She shrieked and covered her head defensively, before peeking through and seeing that Yamcha had crashed through the wall, through the stove, through the table and finally into the opposite wall. He was covered in debris from the explosion, blood trickling down his face as he raised one hand weakly to pull himself up with a painful groan.

"Yamcha!" Bulma yelled in horror, rushing over to his side. She tried lifting the pieces of the broken table off him.

"Get away from him," a familiar, gruff voice said from behind her.

Bulma turned to see Vegeta leaning menacingly over her. Instantly putting two and two together, Bulma was on her feet in a second, shoving him as hard as she could in the chest. Vegeta didn't budge an inch, his scowl deepening as she got right in his face.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!" Bulma screamed at him. "YOU WRECKED MY KITCHEN AND YOU ALMOST KILLED YAMCHA, YOU JERK! WHY, I OUGHTA KICK YOU OUT OF HERE AND THEN YOUR ASS CAN GO BACK TO SPACE TO SOME PLANET EXCLUSIVELY FOR ASSHOLES!"

Vegeta stared at her with cold indifference during her tirade. Narrowing his eyes, he finally decided he'd had enough. He was _royalty_; he didn't have to put up with this bullshit. Putting a hand on Bulma's shoulder, he roughly shoved her over to the side. Bulma yelped and almost tripped over a piece of the stove before regaining her balance.

"Get out of my face," he sneered at her, raising one clenched fist. "I am tired of your disrespect, woman. This fool is going to die, and he's going to die now. And if you're not careful, you'll be next."

Bulma looked him over, taking a very good look at him. Their recent intimacy had given her more insight into his body language than ever before. She could see the extreme fatigue hiding behind the rage in his eyes, and could see the tension gripping his shoulders and his chest. If it would've been just them, she probably could've worn him down. Unfortunately, it wasn't just them.

Taking a deep breath, she gave it a try anyways, "Look, Vegeta, why don't you relax for a second and just breathe-"

"Enough. You aren't saving him this time," Vegeta said, his tone cold as he turned to face Yamcha who had half-dragged himself out from under all the debris. Vegeta smirked a cruel smirk and raised his hand towards the Z-fighter. Much to Bulma's horror, his hand started to glow with dangerous ki.

"Not to worry. Kakarot will keep you company soon enough."

He was an instant away from firing before Bulma got in the way. She glared at him, "Stop it, Vegeta."

"You really _do _want to die, don't you?" Vegeta snarled at her, his hand still pulsing with his ki.

"I don't want you to do this."

"Too bad. Get out of the way or you die with him."

"Yeah, how many times have I heard that!" Bulma suddenly exploded at him. "If you have it in you, then do it already!"

With a growl, Vegeta's ki turned into a bright, dangerous yellow ball hovering an inch in front of his palm, his eyes darkening with hatred that was directed towards her this time. This woman was weighing him down so much; his mind was screaming to fire and rid himself of the burden that was Bulma Briefs once and for all. His hand trembled ever so slightly, aching to fire but unable to do so, when a gentle voice came in from the side.

"Calm down, son. Whatever it is, it's not worth killing over."

Vegeta looked over to his side out of the corner of his eye, only to see Bulma's father standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Having heard all the commotion, the brilliant scientist had wandered over to see what was going on. The old man surveyed the scene in front of him now with surprising calm, before sighing when he saw that Bulma had stepped into harm's way. That daughter of his thrived on danger, that was for sure.

It certainly explained her attraction to the very dangerous Saiyan standing before her.

"I am not your son, old man," Vegeta said, his tone acidic.

"Of course not, dear boy," Dr. Briefs chuckled, bending down and scooping up his cat that was hiding behind his legs. "But it's still not worth it."

Vegeta looked at the old scientist, who he begrudgingly respected for his genius (much like his daughter). Something about the man's paternal presence left Vegeta completely unable to engage in violence in front of him. Here he had destroyed part of the old man's home, and yet he was still accepted and even welcomed. In the face of such warm hospitality, so very obviously passed down to Bulma, he finally closed his fist and dissipated the energy he'd been ready to unload.

Looking forward, he glared at Yamcha. "Not worth it." Raising his eyes to Bulma's, he added, "You're damn right."

Vegeta turned and stalked away, brushing past Bulma's father while Bulma stared a hole through him from behind. She had almost forgotten about Yamcha until he groaned and weakly said, "Little help here..."

"Send Yamcha to the infirmary, dear, so he can get stitched up. I'll make a call to make sure someone is there for him," Dr. Briefs said, putting his cat on his shoulder as he slowly ambled out of the kitchen again, humming a tune to himself like this happened every day.

Turning around, Bulma placed her hands on her hips and glared down at her ex-boyfriend, her eyes fierce.

"What did you do to him?" Bulma hissed. Yamcha blinked in surprise, one hand on his head which had a nasty gash as he looked up at her.

"Me?" he scoffed, before wincing. "Your psychopath boyfriend, or whatever he is to you, hurt you and I-"

"-Promised you wouldn't say anything to him! Damn it, Yamcha, I told you that it wasn't ON PURPOSE, YOU IDIOT! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST MIND YOUR OWN GODDAMNED BUSINESS AND LEAVE ME AND VEGETA ALONE!" Bulma screamed in frustration.

"_He's _the one who almost killed me!" Yamcha yelled back, wiping the blood off his face. How the hell had _he _gotten his ass kicked, and still wound up getting yelled at? "I just wanted to protect-"

"I don't need your protection you MORON!" Bulma screamed down at him, her voice hitting an alarmingly high pitch. "So take yourself to the infirmary and shove your _protectiveness _right up your ass!"

Yamcha was left in stunned silence, his face turning crimson red as he was left alone in the kitchen to lick his wounds.

Vegeta was pulling up his dark blue trousers over his training shorts when Bulma just walked right into his bedroom. He had his back to her as he snatched up his battered armor, tugging it down over his head. Bulma crossed her arms and leaned her weight to one leg, watching him as he continued getting dressed. Vegeta tugged on one of his white gloves, before finally growling impatiently.

"What do you want now?" he demanded.

"Just wanted to see if you were okay," came the honest response. He scowled and tugged on the other glove, not bothering to respond to such an absurd statement. Seeing that her concern wasn't going to be answered, Bulma asked what was on her mind. "Are you going somewhere?"

"I don't owe you any explanations," Vegeta answered, his voice low and cold as he adjusted his armor.

With the gravity simulator control panel destroyed in his impulsive rage, he had nothing to train in. In a moment of obvious insanity, he briefly contemplated seeking out Kakarot and sparring with him. While pounding the younger Saiyan into a pulp would no doubt make him feel a million times better, there was the small little problem that Kakarot was far ahead of him. Knowing he had to train and too impatient for Bulma or her father to make the necessary repairs, his only option was to scour the planet for some empty valley where he could train alone and hopefully regain his focus.

"Don't talk to me like you don't care about me, Vegeta," Bulma told him knowingly, walking up to him from behind. "I know that you do."

The prince tensed, before slowly turning around and facing Bulma. Standing less than a foot away from her, his gaze was darker and more intense than she had ever seen it.

"I do not _care _for you, you stupid woman."

"Oh? Then what do you call what we've been-"

"Good fucking."

Bulma winced in disgust. "Must you be so crass?"

"It's the truth, isn't it," Vegeta sneered, crossing his arms defensively.

"The truth is that there's more to it than that, and you know it."

"No. There isn't. You've served your purpose like the useless, pathetic whore that you are. It's been fun, woman, but your services are no longer needed."

A brief tinge of hurt flashed through her blue eyes at his cold words, before being quickly replaced by a fury he'd never seen in her as her face reddened. Before Vegeta could even sense it coming, Bulma slapped him as hard as she could across the face, whipping his head to the side.

A suffocating silence fell between them after that as she glared furiously at his profile. Vegeta kept his gaze to the side, his fists tightly clenched in rage at his sides. _No one _(save Frieza) had ever struck him without paying with their blood. He struggled valiantly not to lose his temper and kill her once and for all, his fists beginning to tremble.

"I want you out of here, asshole," Bulma hissed.

Too livid to get out a single word and not trusting his temper enough to even spare her a glance, Vegeta simply turned and walked out the door. Bulma watched him leave, before sitting down on the side of his bed in defeat. Alone now in the room where they had been together almost all week long, Bulma leaned forward, her hands covering her face as she sighed into them. Tears of utter frustration came to her eyes, but she didn't let them fall, rationalizing them away as being the result of her wounded hand throbbing from hitting Vegeta.

So much for her storybook ending with her prince...

Meanwhile, said prince was stalking angrily through the compound. Fuck this planet; he was done and wanted no more of it. Just the thought of training on this planet infuriated him, all because of one, lone, frail human woman who had somehow moved the ruthless and dangerous Saiyan Prince to the point where he couldn't bring himself to lift one finger against her. Now more than ever, he was made painfully aware of that fact. Bulma had crawled under his skin and cemented her place there.

The only good thing she had given him was an idea out of this hell.

Finally tracking down Bulma's father's weak ki to the old man's bedroom, Vegeta kicked the door open and stalked inside. His face immediately flushed a very deep shade of red at what he walked in on, before he turned to glare at the wall, the Briefs cat running out the door past the Saiyan in happy escape.

"Oh my," Bunny giggled. "I feel so scandalous!"

"Ah, Vegeta, you really should knock next time," Dr. Briefs said, embarrassment in his voice.

Vegeta scowled. He never got any damn privacy with Bulma, so he didn't care to have interrupted anything. He just wished he wouldn't have seen... he shuddered, before composing himself and crossing his arms over his chest.

"I want a word with you, old man," he demanded, still staring off at the wall.

"Alright, just erm... give me one second, son."

Vegeta exhaled loudly in frustration over the endearing term, but chose to retreat instead of pushing the issue. Leaning up against the wall right outside of their bedroom door, he waited impatiently for the old man to show himself. Unconsciously, he started picking up Bulma's low ki as she finally left his bedroom and headed down to the kitchen. Probably to check up on that scarfaced fool. He tightened his arms across his chest, his scowl deepening, a slow, jealous rage burning in the pit of his stomach.

He really, _really _needed to leave.

"Vegeta, dear boy, what did you need?" Dr. Briefs said, finally emerging from his bedroom with his usual white coat on.

Vegeta stared straight ahead as he answered, "I need a space ship as soon as possible. I want off of this planet at once."

"Oh," Dr. Briefs said, already knowing that this likely had something to do with his daughter. "Well, son, I have a space capsule that's almost ready. I just wanted to put a cappuccino machine in there."

Vegeta looked at the old man out of the corner of his eye, trying not to sound confused, "...Cappuccino machine?"

"Why of course, son. Everyone needs one of those."

"I need no such thing," Vegeta snarled. "How long until it's ready?"

"Well, I could have it ready tomorrow but the simulator inside is only at 100 times Earth's gravity," Dr. Briefs patiently explained in his easy drawl. "It might take me an extra day or two to upgrade it to 450, where you're training at now. It'll get done faster if I ask Bulma-"

"No," Vegeta immediately cut off. "The woman is not to know of this. Have it ready for tomorrow. I'll take it at 100 times Earth's gravity."

If that was enough for Kakarot, then it was enough for him.

"That should be fine. Are you planning on coming back to Earth?"

Vegeta took a few seconds, thinking seriously about it, his mind going to Bulma. She wanted him gone, then so be it. To hell with the androids, to hell with the Planet Earth, and to hell with Bulma Briefs. Looking at her father, he gave his answer with no intention of changing it.

"No."


	18. Sunset

Bulma didn't sleep that night. Feeling almost out of sorts just by sleeping in her own bedroom, she restlessly tossed and turned all night, trying a variety of positions to get comfortable. When she caught glimpses of the sun's light coming in through her balcony, she finally gave up. Irritated, she angrily threw her blankets off her and to the floor, as if her blankets were at fault for her inability to sleep. Getting up to go take a shower, she vowed that she wouldn't think about Vegeta for the entire day.

She wound up thinking about the Saiyan the entire time she showered. Normally brushing off verbal insults like flies and ready to dish out her own, Vegeta's words had burned her deeper than she cared to admit. She was putting forth such an _effort, _to simply be his friend (and more), and it was disheartening to have it thrown back in her face.

The only real things Bulma had to cling on were his gentle touch and the way he would stay in bed with her until she fell asleep. If he really did think of her as just a whore to use for sex, then he certainly didn't treat her like one. Knowing he was a man who spoke more with his actions than his words, Bulma stubbornly held onto the belief that the Saiyan's feelings for her ran deeper than just lust. Besides, she was knee-deep with Vegeta now, and she decided there was no turning back now. She just had to buckle down and let his words roll off her back, that was all.

Of the two stubborn and proud beings, Bulma knew that she would have to be the one to initiate anything if they were going to move forward from their nasty fight.

And she had the perfect olive branch in mind to extend to him.

Meanwhile, Vegeta was flying back to Capsule Corporation, his blue aura sparking around him. After his conversation with Dr. Briefs, he had taken off and explored the planet for a good spot to train in. He had wound up in a mountain range that offered him the solitude he needed. No distractions, just like he wanted. And yet, he hadn't lasted half an hour before he found himself sitting crosslegged on the side of a mountain, staring aimlessly at the view, lost in thought.

Without him, what would happen to this planet? He had made little difference in the future timeline that teenage kid was from; and yet, the woman seemed to think he would make an enormous difference in this one. If he was capable of making such an impact, then surely, he was leaving this planet to its doom. Wouldn't that be best? Kakarot would be defeated, and then he would finally be the strongest Saiyan in the universe while this planet burned. He would be rid of his rival and rid of this planet he hated once and for all, without even having to lift a finger.

And then...?

Well, then he would _really _be alone.

Very suddenly, his body craved Bulma's touch. That woman always made him feel so… _disjointed. _Always priding himself in his mental strength, his body worked on its own accord when it came to the heiress, no matter how much he tried willing it otherwise. The day before had been a prime example. It was as though his hand knew that this woman was the one it touched at night, and had outright refused his order to fire his lethal ki in the hopes of touching her smooth and soft skin again.

He was brought out of his thoughts when the sun began to set. Never having seen anything like it, Vegeta watched the changing colors in the sky with awed curiosity. Sitting thousands of feet off the ground, the view he had was breathtaking. It didn't last long enough for his taste before he was left in darkness, cold washing over him along with an empty feeling he couldn't shake.

The feeling still hadn't left the Saiyan when he finally flew over the familiar complex. His blue aura disappearing, Vegeta easily dropped down right behind Dr. Briefs in the backyard.

"Is it ready?" the prince demanded in an angry growl, startling the old man half to death. Dr. Briefs turned around, his eyes wide in surprise at the newcomer who hadn't been there a second ago.

"Ah, Vegeta. Don't do that to me, I'm getting old you know," Dr. Briefs told him, readjusting his glasses. Vegeta crossed his arms and scowled at the old scientist who turned back to face the space ship that was where his gravity chamber had been just yesterday. There were employees moving in and out of the ship, carrying supplies in. One of them glanced at Vegeta in curiosity, before scurrying along in terror when Vegeta sneered menacingly at him. Dr. Briefs held up a clipboard and squinted at it.

"Well, I just have to check the engines and make sure the gauges are all accurate. Then I'll run one last check through all the systems."

Vegeta grunted his approval. "How much longer?"

"A few more hours, tops."

"Hn… I'll return later to take the space ship."

"Do you want me to come find you when it's done?"

"No need," Vegeta said dismissively, turning around. With one easy leap, he was at his bedroom windowsill, shocking several of the employees. One of them dropped the coffee machine he was carrying into the ship (Vegeta had said no to the cappuccino, but how could anyone resist coffee?). Dr. Briefs sighed.

"Great," the scientist mumbled, writing something on his notepad. "Another thing to check before Vegeta leaves…" Looking up, he motioned for everyone to keep moving. "The boy is simply testing our new levitating shoes, people. Let's keep everything moving."

That instantly set everyone at ease.

Meanwhile, Vegeta climbed through the window to his room and shut it after him. He pulled the curtain back to block out the light, debating what he should do to kill time. What he really wanted to do was sleep, but he couldn't do it here. His acute sense of smell could still pick up the hint of Bulma's scent. Rubbing his eyes, he walked around the bed to get his notebook and the books Bulma had brought him. Maybe he could kill time by reading somewhere quiet. Reaching down, he moved his hand and frowned at the object that hadn't been there yesterday.

Curiously, he picked up the small capsule and turned it over in his hand. Looking instantly over at the door, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he used his senses to try to pick up on someone nearby. Bulma's mother was in the kitchen, along with a slew of humans as they repaired the damage he caused. Bulma herself was down below in her office. Yamcha was nowhere near the compound. Looking back down at the capsule, Vegeta clicked it and tossed it to the floor.

His eyes widened in shock at what he saw.

* * *

Bulma had on her goggles in her lab, putting the last touches on the circuitry for her virtual reality simulator. It was almost ready to go, and she couldn't wait. Keeping her excitement subdued for the moment, the genius heiress bit her tongue. The swelling in her right hand had gone down substantially thanks to a good steady dose of an icepack, and now it was more steady than a neurosurgeon's.

_Almost there… almost there…_

Her brand new cell phone suddenly vibrated in her pocket, and her hand slipped.

"DAMN IT!" she shrieked in frustration. Pulling off her goggles in annoyance, she turned away from her project as she reached down for her phone. Her anger was only mildly tempered when she saw that it was her father calling. She tried to rein in her temper when she answered.

"What is it, Dad?" she demanded.

"Bulma, dear, will you come out to the back and take a look at these turbine blades in the J51 model you designed? I need your good eyes and your steady hands."

"What?" Bulma asked, her anger dissipating into confusion. "Aren't you working on ironing out the new deal for our new expansion lab?"

"Oh, well, I put that on the backburner for now. Vegeta really wants me to…erm…you know what? Never mind, dear," Dr. Briefs said sheepishly, suddenly remembering that Vegeta had wanted to keep Bulma out of it. "I'll take care of it."

"Wait, what? What does Vegeta have to do with this?" Bulma demanded, her heart skipping a beat at what her intuition was already telling her. Turbine blades…jet engine…space ship? He couldn't be leaving. Surely, he hadn't actually taken her _seriously_…

"Oh nothing," Dr. Briefs said, chuckling nervously. "Well, gotta go."

"DAD!" Bulma yelled, making her father wince and withdraw his phone from his ear. "Tell me right now what's going on!"

"Oh dear," Dr. Briefs sighed. "Well… alright…"

Five minutes later, Bulma was wishing she had designed a Saiyan detector as she relentlessly searched through the compound for Vegeta. She couldn't believe he was actually leaving! Granted, she had told him to leave, but she didn't mean leave the _planet! _She was kicking herself over it though; honestly, where else was Vegeta supposed to go? The man was too proud to beg her to stay, and she knew that he would rather shove a pole through both ears than go stay with Chi-Chi and Goku. Who else was there for him, if not her? They had a silent understanding, and she had let him anger her to the point where he felt the need to leave Earth altogether.

She checked everywhere for him. His room, her room, the labs downstairs, every wing in the compound before she realized it was fruitless. If Vegeta was even there in the compound, he could no doubt keep himself isolated no matter how hard she tried looking for him. She had been consistently glancing out into the backyard the whole time to reassure herself that the space ship was still there. Her father was still out there, though he was almost done.

Her only battle plan now was to hunker down in the space ship and wait for him.

But first, she was going to get a beer.

Walking into the kitchen, Bulma shot a look over at the workers fixing up the damage caused by Vegeta and Yamcha's scuffle. Her mother was watching excitedly; far from being angered from the damage, Bunny was pleased that now she had a valid excuse to upgrade her kitchen.

"Oh, Bulma dear," Bunny said happily at the sight of her daughter. "We still have some leftovers from last night if you're hungry."

"No thanks," Bulma said with a sigh, heading over to the fridge.

"Well, when you see Vegeta, you tell him he can come in and get some food before his trip! I would hate for that handsome boy to get hungry in space," Bunny giggled.

"I would, if I knew where that jerk was," Bulma mumbled, pulling out a cold beer. She turned to head out back and camp out in the space ship, and maybe catch some rays before sunset which was looking to be soon, when her mother gave her a curious look.

"Why, dear, he's in the library."

Bulma froze, before looking at her mother in shock. "What?"

"Well, he wanted to know where he could find more books. I told him to go to the library and told him how to get there. Didn't he tell you?" Bunny asked, before turning back to the handsome, rugged men working on her kitchen.

Bulma blinked in disbelief. The library was in fact one of the few places she hadn't thought worth checking, and her mother was the last person she expected to know his whereabouts. Almost against her will, she snickered. Vegeta had probably thought the same way she had… he was a jerk, but he was a smart jerk.

Taking a deep breath followed by a nice chug of her beer, Bulma ventured back upstairs to find him with the hopes of changing his mind. She knew she had her work cut out for her, but she had to try. If not for her, then at least for the planet's sake.

Though driven by technological innovation, her father still believed in the power of a good book. As a result, the Briefs had a library that rivaled the best in West City, and they were constantly replenishing with the newest technological and scientific books and magazines. Sometimes on certain weekends, they would allow young college students access, so there were long tables and chairs where the kids could sit and read.

Past the tables, standing at the large glass window that overlooked their backyard from three stories up, was the man she'd been looking for. Vegeta was standing perfectly straight, his posture proud, his arms crossed over his chest with his back to her. He didn't move an inch when she walked in. Bulma ran her tongue over her teeth, before smiling a little when she saw that he was wearing his brand new armor.

"Hm.. I knew you would like it," Bulma said, her tone a little smug. Vegeta scowled, already knowing what she was referring to. He didn't respond, but Bulma didn't need his words; he was a man of action after all. She gave him a thoughtful look before glancing over at the table she was now next to. There was his notebook along with a few of books. Paradise Lost. Heart of Darkness. A book on sharks. She raised an eyebrow, before looking over at his notebook. On the top, he'd drawn a simple yet dignified design that she didn't recognize. She looked at it curiously, wondering what the symbol was.

"The royal family crest of the Saiyans."

Bulma looked over at Vegeta, who still hadn't moved from his spot. She blinked in surprise that he seemed to know every move she made without the need to see, before looking back down at the design. She trailed one finger on it lightly.

"Wow…and you still remember it after all this time?"

Vegeta silently exhaled, closing his eyes. In his mind, he could still hear the enraged scream of an utterly heartbroken seven-year-old boy breaking and shattering his royal Saiyan armor to pieces after realizing Frieza had killed his father. But there had been one piece he had saved, one piece with the emblem engraved on it. That piece was probably long gone by now, space dust galaxies away.

Vegeta tilted his head back, opening his eyes and looking up at the sky. The sun was setting. If he waited a little longer, he could see the Earth constellations one last time.

"Every line."

Bulma sighed quietly. Hoisting herself up on the table next to the books he'd picked out, she stared at his back for what seemed like an eternity. The sky was changing colors with the impending sunset, bathing him in a soft pink and orange glow that contrasted perfectly with his new armor and uniform, a lighter blue than his previous one. He was utter perfection, and she already missed him.

"You're leaving."

Vegeta lowered his gaze to the yard below at her soft words. The only person still working on the space ship was Dr. Briefs, who he couldn't see but he could sense was inside the ship. It was almost ready. He looked at the ship, his eyes filled with indecision, frustration, and shame all at once.

"I am."

"I suppose it wouldn't make much of a difference if I asked you not to, huh?"

"You're the one who told me to leave," he pointed out dryly.

"Well, what did you expect?" Bulma demanded, and he didn't need to look at her to know that her blue eyes were burning with her anger. "You were an ass. You almost killed Yamcha, AGAIN, mind you, then you called me a whore. After everything I've done for you, how do you think that made me feel?"

Vegeta gave an indifferent shrug, and Bulma looked up at the ceiling, asking Kami silently to give her patience. She put both hands on her face and counted to five, lest she grab a book and hurl it at the back of his head. Oh, it was tempting. Finally, she exhaled and looked back over at him.

"Look, Vegeta. The point is that no matter what I said, I didn't really want you to just up and leave the freaking planet! So will you just stay? Please?"

"You were right before when you said it wouldn't make a difference if you asked."

"But why-"

"Yes, woman. Why. _Why_ should I stay?" Vegeta snarled, turning his head a little to the side to acknowledge her. "What's the point?"

"What do you mean, what's the point?" Bulma asked in exasperation. "Have you already forgotten about the androids?"

"You have your own personal bodyguard who will risk his life for you," Vegeta responded snidely, his tone sounding dangerously close to being jealous. "I'm sure he'll do wonders protecting your planet."

"Who? _Yamcha_?" Bulma asked in disbelief, before bursting out into laughter. She threw her head back and laughed a rich laugh that made Vegeta's heart accelerate. He turned enough so he wasn't facing her directly, but he could look over at her. Bulma's eyes met his and she only laughed more, making him growl angrily. "Oh my gosh! You're actually SERIOUS!"

"Of course I am!" Vegeta snapped at her. "That fool has challenged me again and again, knowing good and damn well that I could snap him like a twig at any moment. I swear, woman, if I see him here again, I'll-"

"I know, I know," Bulma said, her eyes bright with amusement as she looked at him. Vegeta's eye twitched when he saw her look. He turned back to face the window with a glare that could have cracked the glass. "Look, I'm sorry about yesterday. Yamcha, he's an idiot but he's a good guy. He really is."

"Oh, well then. I suppose I should become best friends with him now so we can enjoy your mother's cupcakes together," Vegeta deadpanned.

"Oh, don't be like that," Bulma said, rolling her eyes as she hopped off the table. "He just wanted to protect me, that's all. He saw my hand and freaked out. That's all, Vegeta."

"I don't _care_," he responded tersely._ "_I am tired of him, and I am tired of this planet."

"Tired of Earth, or tired of me?"

Vegeta stayed silent at that. Bulma sighed, crossing her arms as she stood a few feet behind him. He could see the faintest reflection of her in the glass, and he was suddenly hard-pressed to look away. She was still wearing her white lab coat, and Vegeta was reminded of a picture of a little girl with missing teeth.

"I thought you wanted the challenge the androids gave you."

Vegeta shrugged, tearing his eyes away from her reflection with effort. "There are other planets, each with their own set of challenges. I'm sure I'll find another worthy adversary elsewhere."

"Worthy adversary?" Bulma scoffed. "There's no one more worthy than Goku, and you know it. But I guess you're so afraid that you'll lose that you won't even bother, huh?"

Vegeta lowered his arms, his shoulders squared for a fight as he clenched his jaw tightly.

"You know what I don't understand, Vegeta? I don't understand how you've been busting your ass off all this time, just to run away from this fight with the androids. But it looks me like all you know how to do is run away."

Even though he was fully dressed in the armor she'd made for him, Bulma saw tension rip through Vegeta's entire body at her words like a shock of electricity. Deep down, she knew she shouldn't press the volatile Saiyan – she could see the strain on his hands from how tightly his fists were clenched. But she was pissed off now, and if he was really going to leave with no intent of coming back, then she wasn't going to hold back with him anymore.

"I think you're running away from everything. From the androids, from Goku, and from me. I thought you were stronger than that but it seems to me like you're nothing but a cowar-"

Vegeta was in her face faster than she could blink, and Bulma felt like someone sucked the oxygen right out of the room. Mere inches away from him, a trickle of fear tingled through her skin. She swallowed heavily, her instincts wanting to shrink back but her body refusing to as she stubbornly maintained eye contact with him.

"I am _no_ coward," he said in a deceivingly calm tone, his dark eyes betraying his barely restrained murderous rage.

"Ha, sorry, but I beg to disagree," she responded, hoping he couldn't hear how fast her heart was pounding.

"I could destroy anyone in this fucking universe if I felt like it. If I'm leaving, it's simply because I don't _care._ Just like I didn't care to kill that weakling yesterday. It's not worth the effort."

"_Yamcha_ isn't _Goku_, buddy," Bulma snapped, an edge to her voice. Vegeta's eye started to twitch in a rhythm that should have warned her away, but she bravely stared him in the eyes. "But hey, call it what you want. I'll still call it for what it is – being a coward."

"Do you not know who you're talking to, woman?" Vegeta seethed through clenched teeth. "I am the most dangerous predator in the universe. A cut-throat assassin whose killer instinct is second to none. I have slaughtered and killed without hesitation and without regret. I _suggest_ you remember that when you speak to me."

"Oh? Well then, Mr. Badass. What's your body count?" Bulma challenged.

Vegeta smirked a dark smirk, and it made Bulma's heart feel like it was going to stop beating. Quite suddenly, she saw the reason for his interest in sharks. He himself _was_ one. And she was one of those human idiots who tried wrestling with sharks, risking her life every second just for the thrill and adrenaline of swimming next to him.

"Billions."

"Since you were brought back to life," Bulma clarified, raising an eyebrow in mock curiosity.

Vegeta's smirk faltered. He actually had to think about it for a few seconds before he remembered. "When I left to find Kakarot, I got rid of the remnants of Frieza's army."

"So no one innocent?" He scowled, his brows furrowing together almost rigidly, giving her all the answer she needed. "See, I know exactly who you are, Vegeta," Bulma told him, trying to get her heartbeat down. She didn't know if it was from fear or from the delicious heat she could feel pouring off him.

"Do you?" he growled, unconsciously leaning in closer to smell her better.

"I do," Bulma said, her breath coming out shakily. "That's why I want you to stay. Vegeta, seriously, the Earth _needs _you."

"Bah. Earthlings aren't worth saving," he sneered.

"Not even me?"

Vegeta hesitated a second too long, giving away his answer without wanting to, his features turning into the very definition of frustration as a muscle near his jaw flexed. Bulma smiled a teasing and knowing smile, a shimmer in her brilliant blue eyes like she had finally figured him out and could read every dark corner of his mind. The prince stared at her furiously, not sure what he wanted to do more: break her neck and leave her for dead, or take her right there against a bookshelf until she was hoarse from screaming his name.

"You know you can't resist this battle coming up," Bulma said, leaning in closer to him ever so slightly. He was addicted to her scent, but the attraction, as usual, wasn't one sided. Today he smelled like the fresh air on the mountains and it was positively tantalizing. "You're a Saiyan, so cut the bullshit. You know you want to be there."

Vegeta's eye twitched. It was true. She was right on every point, and his usually sharp tongue could find no response. He pulled back a step from her, much to her disappointment. Hissing through his nose, Vegeta angrily looked off to the side.

"You wouldn't understand, woman."

"Make me understand."

"I can't _focus_ here!" Vegeta finally admitted in a frustrated snarl, his face burning red with embarrassment. "Too many distractions, all the time, every day. I've never had problems focusing before and it's driving me fucking INSANE!"

He took a breath and reined in his temper, before falling into a bitter silence. He didn't need to say more for Bulma to realize that she was his biggest distraction. She studied him for a moment like she would a complicated circuitry system; if only he were so easy to figure out.

Finally, she stepped closer to him, closing the distance he created.

"I'm sorry then," she said, her tone genuine. Vegeta scowled and looked back at her, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "The most important thing for you is to focus on your training. Heck, that's why I even upgraded your armor. Which looks pretty damn good on you, if I do say so myself," she said, her tone turning smug.

"Hn." Vegeta's upper lip twitched before he looked away again, his jaw set. "It's decent."

Bulma looked up at the ceiling. She sighed deeply. Oh, this man. This man was _work _like she'd never known.

"Alright then, tough guy," she teased, looking back at him. Her tone was light-hearted but the blue of her eyes was bittersweet. "If you want to leave, then leave. It's clear that you need the space."

"Like I need your _permission_," Vegeta spat out in disgust.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know." Bulma reached out for one of his gloved hands. He tensed, but made no motion to stop her when she gave it a supportive squeeze. "Just promise you'll come back, okay?"

Vegeta shifted his weight uncomfortably under the gaze of those pleading blue eyes.

"I don't make promises. Promises are meant to be broken."

"Please, Vegeta?"

_Damn her._ _Damn her straight to the fucking depths of hell._

Vegeta closed his eyes and cracked his neck, before sighing in defeat.

"…I will return, woman, but only to defeat the androids and Kakarot myself. Not for _you_."

"Of course not," Bulma said with a knowing smirk.

"Whatever," he muttered, pulling his hand free. Bulma couldn't help but feel like she had just won a championship round, and couldn't keep the grin off her face if she tried. He gave her a sneer in response and walked over to collect his books, scooping them up with one hand. Without waiting for her, he walked out of the library, Bulma trailing him.

"Vegeta, wait, you forgot your note-"

"Don't care. All the pages are used up anyways," he said, cutting her off. Bulma glanced back briefly before following him.

They walked in silence, before Bulma broke it.

"Hey, Vegeta?"

"Hn."

"You're not a coward."

Vegeta didn't break his stride as they came to the staircase, though he did turn his head a little when he responded.

"You're not a whore."

They walked down the stairs, Bulma beaming the whole way.

That is, until his gruff voice added: "You're the most spoiled, annoying, insufferable, and infuriating woman I've ever encountered in the entire universe, and I am constantly trying not to murder you in cold blood… but you're not a whore."

"Charming," Bulma responded snidely.

He cracked a smirk she couldn't see.

Finally, when they got to the second level, Bulma reached out to Vegeta and grabbed his arm. She could feel his powerful muscles flex under her touch as he stopped walking to let out a frustrated exhale.

"Hey, I'll meet up with you in the space capsule, okay? I want to check things over before you go. Don't you DARE leave before I do it!"

Vegeta growled in annoyance, "Woman, your father already-"

"Oh, it'll only take a few minutes! Geez, men, you're all so goddamned impatient," Bulma said with a huff, rolling her eyes and strolling away in the direction of her bedroom. Vegeta blinked in surprise, before scowling at her over his shoulder. With a grunt, he turned back to the stairs and continued his descent.

Just a little longer, and he'd be free.

Just a little longer…

Five minutes later, Bulma was back in the kitchen. She pulled out a fresh, cold beer bottle to appease the temperamental Saiyan while she took a quick look at the space ship when her father strolled into the kitchen.

"Bulma, dear. Vegeta said you're going to check the space capsule?"

"Yep. Anything need another look?" Bulma asked as she closed the fridge door.

"No, I don't think so," Dr. Briefs replied, looking his daughter over carefully. She seemed like everything was fine, and that put him more at ease. "Maybe you can explain to him how things work though, in case the boy forgot."

"Vegeta doesn't forget a lot of things, Dad, but I'll see what I can do," Bulma said, giving her father a small smile of reassurance before heading out back.

Vegeta was leaning his shoulder up against the side of the space ship, one foot crossed over the other, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the last of the sunset, lost within his own thoughts. He turned his head to the side when he sensed Bulma approaching, before turning to her.

"Come on you, let's run through this," Bulma told him with an easy smile as she walked up the ramp to the space ship. Vegeta watched her go up in silence, before frowning and following after her. She handed him the bottle of beer when he got to the top. "Here, you can work on that while I double check everything. Not that I don't trust my dad or anything, but it'll make me feel better."

Vegeta scowled and took the bottle with a grunt. Bulma gave him a satisfied look and then turned to her work while he leaned back against the wall. Raising the bottle to his mouth, Vegeta easily ripped off the top with his teeth, spat it out, and then took a drink. The whole time, he kept his dark eyes trained on Bulma as she moved about. She was showing no signs of distress over the fact that he was leaving. He had expected tears, or some other kind of emotional bullshit response, but now realized how wrong he'd been. Once again, she managed to surprise him.

The prince raised an eyebrow when Bulma suddenly spun around to face him, digging in the pocket of her coat.

"Oh, before I forget. I wanted you to have this," she said, pulling out the extra senzu bean Goku had given her. Vegeta glared fiercely at her, his look speaking volumes. Bulma instantly glared back at him, placing one hand on her hip. "Look, don't be a stubborn ass about this. When you make your Super Saiyan transformation, who knows what kind of shape you'll be in. It might leave you totally spent. So you better hold onto this, because so help me, Vegeta, if I have to go into space looking for you because you got hurt and you didn't take this with you, I will kick your ass myself! You got it?"

She then threw the bean right at him. He reached up and easily caught it. Vegeta looked down at it, his eyes narrowing. The only thing running through his mind was that she said _when. _

_When _he made his transformation. Not _if. _

Vegeta's fist tightened around the bean. Looking up at her, he watched her with a heated look as she tweaked some settings on the control panel. Oblivious to his piercing scrutiny, Bulma tugged her lab coat off in an effort to be more comfortable. She casually set it aside, leaving her dressed in a simple black tank top with her jean shorts.

When she leaned back over the control panel and innocently offered him a seductive view from behind, every male urge in his body screamed in desire of the female temptation flaunted in front of him. He took a deep breath, his eyes roaming over her figure. Struggling with himself for only a few seconds, he decided there was nothing to lose here anymore. Soon enough, he would be alone with only his training and his thoughts to keep him company.

But he wasn't alone right now, now was he?

Closing his eyes, Vegeta chugged down the rest of his beer in one shot. Tossing the empty bottle out into the yard and putting the bean aside, he hit the button to raise the ramp and close the door.

Then he locked it.

"Alright, Vegeta, come here so I can explain this to you," Bulma said, concentrating as she examined all the different controls. She didn't realize Vegeta had already been silently making his way over to her before she asked him to, taking his gloves off along the way and tossing them aside. "Now, I want you to make sure that this light over here, this orange one, this is the light constantly gauging the fuel reserves, so make sure this one here stays turned on."

"It will stay turned on," Vegeta said in a low tone, slowly coming up behind her. He pulled up the sleeves of his blue uniform up to his elbows, giving her a very slow once over from behind.

"Okay, and this one…" Bulma's voice trailed off, her eyes widening in genuine surprise when his strong hands settled on her hips. A shudder went down her spine down to her toes when she felt the cold of his armor press up against her back.

"Which one, woman?" Vegeta growled in her ear.

Bulma swallowed, and made a very brave attempt to speak. "Um…right…this one, here…"

Vegeta grunted, nuzzling his nose right behind Bulma's ear and making her shudder again. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, breathing in her scent. He might as well have been taking a hit of a drug for how intoxicated it made him feel.

"What a horrible instructor you are. I'll be lost in space now because of you," he whispered with a smirk.

Bulma was going to respond but her words were lost when Vegeta spun her around and brought his mouth down over hers. Putting both hands on the sides of her face, he pulled her into a deep, hungry kiss. She could catch the slightest taste of alcohol, but it only made him all the more enticing. She melted against his armor as he slipped one hand to the back of her tank top. Two fingers lighting up with his ki, Vegeta trailed his fingers down the curve of her spine, dissolving her clothes on contact with only his discipline keeping her skin from dissolving along with them.

"Vegeta," Bulma breathed out against his lips, her raw desire in the pronunciation of his name leaving Vegeta momentarily breathless. She took advantage of his hesitation and kissed him eagerly, taking control before sucking on his bottom lip. Vegeta growled and took control back in a heartbeat, fisting a handful of her loose hair and pulling her head back, breaking their kiss. He snickered when Bulma gasped and arched back against him. Before Bulma knew it, the remains of her top disappeared and his cold armor was right against her bare flesh. Vegeta ravished her exposed neck with his hot mouth, while his rough calloused hand greedily explored her soft skin. She whimpered in pleasure at his assault on her senses, her hands going up his armor and aching for skin.

As if reading her mind, Vegeta withdrew from her and tugged his armor off, tossing it aside before Bulma could finish one panted breath. Before she knew it, he had stripped out of his uniform top, and it was now hanging down around his waist, exposing his delicious and perfectly sculpted torso. He allowed her a second to devour his body with her eyes, before smirking and pulling her against him.

Hot skin met hot skin, her soft curves melting against his hard muscles like they'd been specifically designed for each other. It was perfection personified as they continued their passionate kiss, neither willing to be dominated by the other. Bulma reached down and teased his rock hard arousal with a light, almost playful touch over the spandex of his uniform, smiling when she felt him respond against her hand. She squeezed him and his resulting growl into their kiss was almost feral. He suddenly grabbed her and pulled her off her feet.

Bulma arched up with a hiss at the cold floor meeting her back, but Vegeta was right there on top of her, his overwhelming heat and his strength trapping her. The prince looked down at her, his dark, hungry eyes drinking in her flushed features. He almost didn't want to leave anymore when Bulma made eye contact with him, her blue eyes scorching for him.

"Vegeta, please," Bulma pleaded, her soft hands running up his strong arms. She wanted him badly, especially when she could feel him throbbing against her thigh through the very thin layer of his spandex.

"Such an impatient woman," Vegeta teased with that maddening smirk of his. "Don't humans say that patience is a virtue?"

"Um, you're not virtuous," Bulma said before she could stop herself. Her eyes widened at her own words, but the regret didn't have time to manifest itself before Vegeta chuckled at the comment, as though complimented. His smirk spread into a rare and genuine smile that stilled her heart.

"Damn right."

Vegeta was on her before she could react, his mouth and his tongue attacking every inch of her before he focused on her breasts, his right hand moving down to her shorts. A flick of his ki and the shorts and accompanying underwear were gone, leaving her bared to him. He deftly explored her with his fingers and moaned in approval against her skin when he felt how hot she was. Just for him. Only for him.

_Just how it should be, _he thought arrogantly.

Bulma squirmed and jerked under his touch as Vegeta sucked, kissed, bit, and nuzzled her breasts, his ministrations with his fingers slow and deliberate. When he was sure that she couldn't possibly take any more, he stopped and pulled away.

Bulma was left trembling with need on the floor, breathing heavily as she blinked at the cruel loss of his heat. Looking over at him, she saw that he had stood up and was quickly discarding his boots and his pants. When he turned to look down at her in all his naked glory, Bulma's breath caught in anticipation. His features were as heated as his arousal as he sank down to his knees before her, as though she was the one who was royalty.

He was inside her with one swift motion, and they both groaned in pleasure at the incredible sensation. Vegeta pulled up to her, his hot skin rubbing against hers as Bulma latched tightly onto his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. Their hot, panting breaths mixed together and became one vortex of hot passion as he set his rhythm. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down to her and Vegeta surrendered to her like he'd never surrendered to any woman in his life. He let her touch him and kiss him wherever she wanted, giving her everything she needed.

Bulma wrapped her legs around his waist as their sweat slicked bodies moved together in perfect harmony, no sense of time and place as she enjoyed every inch of her prince. She clenched a fistful of his sweaty hair hard and Vegeta responded with a growl and a faster and harder pace. He lowered his hand between their bodies and gave her a teasing rub that made her writhe under him in ecstasy.

He brought his lips down roughly against hers, suffocating a scream that would have rocked the neighborhood as he took her over the edge. Bulma had one hand on his shoulder and she gripped him so hard, her nails broke his flesh. The pain mixed with her iron tight grip on his hair made Vegeta release a heavy groan against her mouth as he went with her.

Vegeta stayed on top of her, both of them panting together. His forehead was pressed right up against the side of her neck, and he was vaguely aware of Bulma's fingers gently massaging his scalp through his hair. Finally after some time, Vegeta rolled off her and onto his right side. He pulled her with him, his left arm secured possessively around her waist. Instinctively, Bulma pulled herself against him, seeking his heat.

They stayed in a comfortable silence together as their breathing finally settled. Bulma ventured a look at his face, but he had his eyes closed, his features set in that hard, familiar scowl. Looking down, she gently ran one finger down a scar on his chest.

"How long do you think you'll be gone?"

Vegeta took a deep breath. He cursed himself for this situation; moreso for the place than the act itself. How long would the smell of sex be in this blasted space ship? He'd just sealed his torture for weeks, maybe even months with his heightened sense of smell.

_At least it was worth it._

"As long as it takes to become a Super Saiyan."

Bulma bit her bottom lip, before pulling up close to his face. His lip twitched under her scrutiny but he didn't move. She studied his strong features for a moment, and wanted so badly to tell him how much she loved him and how badly she was going to miss him. She hadn't quite realized until this moment, now that he was going to leave, just how deep her feelings ran for the Saiyan. They were almost frightening in their intensity.

Just as she was working up the courage to share her heart with him, Vegeta finally decided he'd had enough and withdrew from her. Bulma sighed, cold sweeping over her as the moment disappeared. Vegeta got up to his feet and went about getting dressed in silence, his eyes never glancing her way. Bulma got up as well, scouring for her own clothes. Bending down, she picked up what used to be her black tank top. She blinked at it in surprise.

"You shredded my clothes," she said in disbelief.

"They were in the way," Vegeta responded gruffly, his back to her as he pulled his uniform back on. "Besides," he added with a smirk, "You didn't seem to mind."

Bulma's face turned a crimson red as she glared at the Saiyan's back. He was absolutely right and she had no retort. At the very least, she still had her lab coat. Going over, she grabbed her coat and slipped it on, thankful it was long enough to cover the essentials. Vegeta watched her out of his peripheral vision as he tugged his armor down over his head.

The silence that settled down between them as he finished getting dressed and she finished collecting her shredded clothes wasn't awkward, but it wasn't exactly comfortable either. They both stole subtle glances at the other, purposely avoiding each other as they continued on in silence. Finally, Bulma cracked and spoke first.

"So do you want me to finish explaining what I was saying earlier?"

"That won't be necessary," Vegeta said, strolling over to the door. He unlocked it and then lowered the ramp, grateful for the cool night air. The main floor of the space ship was in desperate need of being aired out to get rid of the sex aroma that still lingered in the air, lest he lose his mind completely while in space. He leaned his back against the doorframe and crossed his arms, his eyes going up to the dark sky. "I've been using space ships since I was a child. This is nothing special."

"I figured, but I just wanted to make sure," Bulma said, pulling her coat closed with one hand as she approached him, the remnants of her clothes in her other hand. "Well, at least you have some good books to pass the time when you're not training."

Vegeta gave an indifferent shrug as Bulma finally stood a couple of feet away. He lowered his gaze from the stars to frown at her.

"What now?" he asked, his tone lacking its usual harsh edge.

Bulma opened her mouth to say something, and then changed her mind at the last second. She sighed deeply as she looked at him.

"Just be safe, okay? Don't overdo it."

Vegeta rolled his eyes and looked away, tightening his arms over his chest. Bulma shook her head and walked over. He stiffened as she came up to him, expecting… well, he wasn't quite sure what he was expecting as he eyed her warily out of the corner of his eye. She reached out and touched one of his arms, and he instinctively tensed.

"And please, don't miss me too much," she teased. "I'll still be here when you get back."

Vegeta blinked, before sneering at her for being so ridiculous. Bulma laughed and walked down the ramp, going inside to take a shower and head to bed. She wasn't one for emotional goodbyes, and she was sure she'd be feeling his absence soon enough. For now, though, this was how things were and she accepted them, comforted by the knowledge that she'd at the very least see him again.

The prince released a slow breath as he watched her go back inside, only one word coming to mind:

_Finally_.

He was done. He couldn't help but feel relieved.

Vegeta stood unmoving for almost an hour after Bulma left to try to air out the space ship as much as possible. Twenty minutes after that and Vegeta was staring out one of the portals in the space ship, watching as the Earth grew smaller and smaller.

He scowled at the mudball planet, knowing this trip was going to be good for him. It was exactly what he needed: isolation to regain his discipline and his focus. Emotional garbage only weighed elite warriors down, and that's what Bulma was doing to him. With time and distance, cooler heads would prevail and he'd be able to put the blasted woman behind him for good. He'd told her that he would stay as long as it took to make his transformation but that was a lie so she wouldn't start bitching and whining at him. The honest truth was he would stay in space as long as he possibly could with his resources to, quite frankly, get a grip on himself again. He would return to Earth, yes, but certainly not to see Bulma. He had a destiny to change with the androids and his pride to restore against Kakarot. He'd given into his primal needs and gotten one last touch, but now he was done with her for good. Whatever this _thing _had been between them, it was over now.

He turned away from the portal and went off to get some much-needed sleep, oblivious of how his one last surrender to Bulma would change his life forever.


	19. Reality

"TRUNKS!"

Bulma's heart was racing as she searched her home like a mad woman. How had he escaped? She had only taken her eyes off her son for five minutes to return an important phone call, and had found an empty baby walker when she came back into the living room. The boy was quickly learning to use his crawling mobility along with his unnatural strength to become a bonafide escape artist, blissfully unaware of the heart attack he was going to give his mother.

_Mother… _times like these, Bulma felt like she didn't have the first clue on how to be one. Looking flustered, she burst into her kitchen and quickly scanned for her baby. Not seeing any signs of him, she turned to leave and search the next room when she heard a faint giggle.

Bulma froze, turning around slowly. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she walked over to the cabinet by the stove. She stopped in front of it, and then heard another muffled giggle. She cracked a knowing smirk before bending down and opening it.

Trunks had one chubby fist in his mouth, his blue eyes shining with playful amusement when Bulma opened the cabinet door. He had a pot on his head and another in between his legs in front of him. At the sight of his mother, he reached his arms out to her happily.

"There you are," Bulma sighed, reaching in and pulling out her nine-month-old baby out. She took the pot off his head and put it back where it belonged. She lifted her son up to look at him, and he giggled happily at the attention. Bulma playfully scolded him, "That wasn't funny, young man. You had Mommy very worried, you know."

Trunks' laughter slowly disappeared at her tone. Bulma blinked in surprise when her little boy gave her a fierce glare that was achingly familiar. She couldn't help the smile that spread over her features at the sight of it, even though there was still a small, residual ache in her heart for the man Trunks had inherited that glare from. That ache had dulled with time, but she somehow doubted it would ever disappear. Not when their son looked so much like his father.

"Come on, you, let's get you a juice bottle," Bulma said gently, shifting Trunks so she was carrying him easily in one arm. Trunks gripped fistfuls of her blouse tightly, already looking at the fridge. He pointed right at it, and Bulma laughed. "Demanding little one, aren't you?" she teased him, going to open the fridge.

"Buuulma!" Yamcha's voice suddenly called out. "You coming? The food isn't going to wait for you!"

"Yeah, I'll be right out!" Bulma called back as she pulled out a bottle of apple juice. She brought it up to Trunks, who angrily scowled at it. Bulma rolled her eyes and sighed. "So much like your father," she whispered, putting the bottle back. She took one out of fruit juice, and Trunks eagerly reached for it, stretching out so far he almost got out of her hold altogether. He snatched it out of Bulma's hand, settling back into her hold as he began to drink happily while Bulma watched.

Deep down, Bulma had always wanted children. But she'd never wanted any at this point in her life, and certainly not without a husband by her side. Life sometimes had other plans though, and she'd been thrown one hell of a curve ball about a month after Vegeta had left for space when the nausea had finally kicked in (so much for the "_almost better than abstinence!" _slogan on her birth control pills). She had risen to the challenge in typical Bulma Briefs fashion, welcoming the baby and accepting him with open arms, but even that dogged determination of hers hadn't made the news easy to bear. Everything was a little easier now that her baby boy was here, but in the beginning, the anxiety had damn near consumed her alive.

For weeks, she had agonized over Vegeta's eventual return to Earth. Though she trusted him and knew for a fact that he was not the cruel and vicious soldier who had arrived on Earth in search for the Dragon Balls… the uncertainty and the lengths he'd gone to in order to prevent having children left her unable to sleep most nights. The rare nights when she did, she could only dream of Vegeta's reaction to the news.

Sometimes, her dreams were wonderful: Vegeta came back to Earth after having achieved his Super Saiyan transformation, professed his love for her, and accepted their child without any qualms at all. Those were the fantasies. Other times, Vegeta went into a rage and killed them all, sparing no one on the planet in bitter retribution for Bulma breaking his trust, even if she had never meant to. Not even Goku was powerful enough to stop his murderous rampage. Those were the nightmares.

Time passed as always, and time eventually healed Bulma's anxiety. Her concern over Vegeta's reaction to the news faded to the background as her pregnancy became more and more real, and her excitement started to take over. Her deep longing for her prince's return was slowly taken over by the warm love she felt growing for her baby during her pregnancy. Between her parents and friends, she'd gotten by like always.

Sensing his mother's eyes on him, Trunks looked up at Bulma, both of his hands on his bottle as he greedily chugged his juice down. Trunks paused just enough to smile around his bottle, and Bulma's heart melted with love for her little boy. She hadn't planned her pregnancy, but she wouldn't trade Trunks for the world. She leaned forward and kissed him on his forehead.

"Let's go outside and get you some fresh air, little guy."

"There you are!" Yamcha said as soon as Bulma stepped outside with Trunks. He sat up straight, his face a smear of barbecue from indulging in the ribs and chicken legs Dr. Briefs had put on the grill. Bulma gave him a disgusted look and shook her head. Some things would just never change.

"Oh, there's my beautiful grandson!" Bunny exclaimed brightly.

"You guys save some for me?" Bulma asked, leaning over the table outside to observe the delicious barbecue her parents had prepared. Trunks looked down as well, before pulling his empty bottle out of his mouth. He then threw the bottle right onto Yamcha's plate, splattering barbecue sauce across the man's shirt. The baby burst out laughing as Bulma gasped. "Trunks! That wasn't nice!" she chastised, though she was fighting the urge to laugh too.

"Kid's got good aim," Yamcha said in a dry tone, observing Trunks warily as he cleaned his shirt with a napkin. Vegeta hadn't once met the boy, and didn't even know the kid existed, yet Yamcha couldn't shake the feeling that Trunks had inherited his father's dislike for him.

"Oh, he just likes to play!" Bunny said with a giggle. She stood up and walked over, and Trunks immediately offered her his arms, stretching away from Bulma as if she was the plague.

"Wow, I see how it is," Bulma laughed. "When Grandma is around, I don't exist anymore, huh, baby?"

"Grandma always knows best," Bunny beamed, taking Trunks into her arms. "Isn't that right, Trunks?" she cooed, and Trunks babbled a happy reply.

Bulma smiled and shook her head before taking a seat across from Yamcha. He observed her carefully as she loaded up a plate with food. She had skipped breakfast and now she was starving. Sensing him watching her, Bulma glanced up at Yamcha. She gave him a crooked smile and not able to help himself, he gave her one back.

Just friends. That's what she called it. Yamcha had been _so sure_ that the longer Vegeta stayed away, the more of a chance he'd have at reclaiming his true love. That had disappeared in a hurry when Bulma had shown up early one morning at his apartment door while he was in bed with another woman he'd picked up at a bar the night before. To her credit, Bulma hadn't even batted an eye, her mind solely on the five positive pregnancy tests that she had just gotten back. After kicking his one night stand out as graciously as he could, Yamcha had sat in stunned silence as Bulma told him that she was pregnant with Vegeta's baby. She'd come to him because she needed a friend and he'd offered that friendship to her the day before Vegeta left. Yamcha could only nod numbly, agreeing to be her friend while deep down wondering how it was possible that things had gotten to this point.

Yamcha would have given her the world. A marriage, kids, true love. One night, his longing for her had crawled up to the surface of his skin, and he couldn't help himself anymore. Yamcha had poured his heart out to her with no regrets. Oh, that one, beautiful, heartbreaking night…

"_You should really get some sleep now that Trunks is finally down for the count. You look spent, B."_

_Bulma gave him an exhausted smile, before raising her cup of coffee. "A mother's best friend," she said wearily, yawning as soon as the words were out. She leaned up on her tip toes, reaching into the cupboard to pull out some sugar for her coffee._

_His hand reached it before hers. Yamcha brought down the sugar container, putting it next to her cup. Bulma gave him a look of gratitude, too tired to really notice how close he was to her. Forcing her eyes to stay open, she tried her best to do the simple task of putting sugar into her coffee when Yamcha wrapped one arm casually around her waist._

_Bulma immediately froze, suddenly wide awake. She looked at Yamcha, eyes wide with surprise when she found that he was now only inches away from her._

_She leaned back a little, eyeing him warily, "What are you doing?"_

_"Bulma, come on," he said, not breaking his eye contact with her. "You know that there's still something between us."_

"_Yamcha…" Bulma sighed. _

"_Vegeta's been gone over a year," Yamcha pressed. At the sound of the Saiyan's name, Bulma broke their eye contact and looked down at her coffee cup. _

"_He just went far to train, that's all," Bulma said, sounding more convincing than she looked. "If he could have come back by now, he would've."_

"_It doesn't change the fact that he's not here. He wasn't here for the pregnancy, and he's not here for his son. Or for you."_

"_Thank you for telling me something I don't know," Bulma replied, an edge to her tone now. She was sleep-deprived and wasn't up to hearing this. Deciding to hell with the sugar, she snatched up her coffee cup and turned away, but Yamcha caught her arm before she could._

"_He's not here but __**I'm**__ here, Bulma."_

"_Yamcha, don't do this," Bulma pleaded with him as Yamcha stepped closer to her._

"_I don't even care that Trunks isn't mine. I love you, and I still want this. I still want you. Can we start over?" _

_Bulma visibly hesitated, looking into the eyes of the man who she'd loved for so long. Things would be so easy with Yamcha. She wouldn't have to be alone anymore… she agonized for a second, actually contemplating it. Vegeta had been gone for so long…_

_When he leaned in for a kiss, the decision suddenly became easy._

_Bulma pulled back from him, giving him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, it's just… you're just not…"_

"_I'm not Vegeta," he said in a monotone voice._

_Bulma sighed and took one of his hands in hers. "You're a great guy and you're a great friend. Let's just keep it at that…okay?"_

"…_Just friends…"_

"_Just friends."_

"So how's the training coming along? You think you're ready?" Bulma asked, licking some barbecue sauce off her thumb. She looked up when she was met with silence. Raising an eyebrow, she tried again, "Yamcha?"

"Oh, right," Yamcha said, blinking a few times. He frowned down at his plate for a moment, ridding the memory from his mind before looking back up at her. "Sorry. What did you say?"

Bulma gave him a curious look, but didn't press the issue, "Just asked how ready you think you are for the androids."

"Oh… well, I'm about as ready as I'll ever be," Yamcha said with an easy shrug, turning his attention back to his lunch. "I can't believe we're only two months away."

"Tell me about it," Bulma laughed, digging her fork greedily into her mother's potato salad. "Time flies, huh?"

"You could say that," Yamcha relented, frowning again. He looked back up at his former girlfriend and watched her eat in silence. Bulma caught his look and gave him a playful smirk, and he just shook his head and looked down. Trying his very best to smother his hatred and his bitterness, he cleared his throat before speaking up again. "Do you really think he's coming back?"

No names were needed; she knew exactly who he was talking about. Without missing a beat, Bulma gave her answer.

"He'll be back. I know him, and he won't miss this fight for anything."

"Yeah," Yamcha agreed reluctantly, his frown growing. "But what about you and Trun-"

"Yamcha, not now," Bulma cut off, pointing her fork at him in warning. "It's none of your business. I'll handle that on my own."

Yamcha pulled back from his plate with a deep sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. He wanted to drop it, but honestly, he just couldn't wrap his mind around it. What the hell did Vegeta have to offer her that he didn't? Vegeta had been gone for such a long time, and Bulma's faith in him remained completely unwavering. Yet here he had ignored her for little under two months after they broke up, and she'd seen it fit to move on to the Saiyan Prince. The double standard here wasn't lost on him, and it burned him alive to think about it.

"You're only fooling yourself, Bulma," Yamcha told her sullenly. Bulma glanced up at him, but he immediately looked away. Even after all this time, he found it difficult to maintain eye contact with her when she got angry. "He isn't going to do right by you and Trunks. That's not who Vegeta is."

"You don't know who Vegeta is," Bulma said, her voice calm even though she was dangerously close to blowing up at him. Honestly, between her work and Trunks, she hardly got time to just unwind anymore. Why did he have to ruin an otherwise nice and peaceful barbecue?

"Your problem is that you think _you _do," Yamcha shot back, not hiding his bitterness this time.

"We're not having this conversation."

"You know I'm right."

"We are NOT. Having. This. Conversation," she warned, emphasizing her words as if he was a child.

"I just don't understa-"

"You know what I don't understand?" Bulma suddenly exploded, standing up angrily. She was leaning over the table menacingly and Yamcha winced a little, shrinking back in his chair at the fire burning in her eyes. "I don't understand why you can't get it through your skull that my relationship with Vegeta is none of your goddamn business! If he accepts Trunks then he accepts him, and if he doesn't then it's his fucking loss, but it's NOT your concern, Yamcha!"

Before he could get another word out, Bulma spun around and walked over to her mother who was still cooing over Trunks. Saying it was time for the baby's nap, she took Trunks back into her arms and went back inside. Yamcha frowned and stayed still for only a second before getting up and going after her. Seeing that the barbecue was over now, Bunny sighed and headed inside to start cleaning the kitchen.

The problem was that they were all expecting Vegeta to make a landing like he had the first time he'd returned to Earth after searching for Goku in space, announcing his return to everyone who was close by. No one was expecting him to quietly drop in the backyard like he was currently doing. Vegeta landed on his feet, before looking up at the domed building in front of him with an unreadable gaze. He'd been back on Earth for three months now, but no one knew that. Having learned to fend for himself in the harshest environments under Frieza, he'd been in the wilderness, preferring to keep himself completely isolated as he mentally prepared for the upcoming battle against the androids. Knowing a thing or two about space ships, he'd taken his space ship off the grid so Bulma and her father couldn't track him or communicate with him.

He was in space for fifteen months. Five to get to the planet of his choice: an isolated planet in a galaxy far away, one he'd been to as a child for a training assignment. The conditions had been volatile, and that was exactly what he craved. Five more months to come back to Earth, where he'd changed the coordinates so he'd land somewhere isolated without any humans nearby.

And then, the five months in between... Vegeta smirked.

He'd done it. It had cost him a steep physical price, but he'd finally made his ascension. All the pain, all his efforts, everything paid off in spades and Vegeta had never felt so fulfilled in his entire life. In his fingertips he had a power more deadly than any he'd ever imagined. It had only taken him weeks to make the transformation, but he'd remained in space for longer, learning how to control his impressive new abilities where he wouldn't draw the attention of the Earthling warriors. They wouldn't know of his incredible power until they saw him defeat the androids first hand - right before they watched him destroy Kakarot once and for all. The Earthlings would see the true power of the Saiyan race, and Vegeta resolved that they would bow at his feet in respect or they would die in the dirt with their precious _Goku_.

First things were first though. He needed a new set of armor and a new battle uniform to go with it. His current armor was broken and cracked as badly as his old set, and his uniform was ripped and shredded from the hellish training he'd gone through in space. Not only that, but he was tired of training in the outdoors. He needed a more vigorous environment that could only be provided by the gravity chamber.

And, if he was being completely honest with himself, he actually missed the warmth of his own bed.

Among other things...

So now here he was, back at Capsule Corporation once again, a strange feeling of unease in his stomach as his dark eyes briefly settled on Bulma's balcony. He could pinpoint the woman's location exactly, and he could sense that Yamcha was with her. His eyes hardened when he placed them both in her bedroom, before forcing himself to look away.

What the hell did he care what she did, anyways?

Vegeta scowled, glancing over at the table spread next to him. He'd been surviving on wild game, and had completely forgotten just how good the food was here. He saw no reason not to indulge himself a little in the delicious-looking food he saw spread out on the picnic table in the yard. Walking over, he picked up Bulma's abandoned plate and brought it up for a smell.

Bunny walked out happily to put the food away, and almost squealed at the sight of Vegeta casually standing at the table as if he'd never been gone a day. She put a hand over her heart, but the Saiyan had his back to her and continued to ignore her, much more intrigued by the food in front of him. Reaching down, he grabbed a fork and started digging into the potato salad.

"Oh, my!" Bunny said, beaming brightly. "You're back!"

Vegeta just grunted before swallowing. "Tell your daughter to come down here at once. I want a word with her," he ordered, his gruff voice rougher than when he'd left for space. His face hardened into a bitter scowl; if Bulma would've just been _alone, _he could have gone to her directly and not bothered at all with her brainless mother. He hissed in agitation through his nose, not knowing or understanding why it bothered him that she was with that scarfaced moron.

"Oh why _of course _I'll tell her, sweet boy," Bunny said with a delighted giggle. Vegeta rolled his eyes. "She's just putting that cute grandson of mine down for a nap right now!"

Vegeta suddenly stopped eating.

"You just wait right there, I'll have her down in a minute!"

The prince stood still as stone for several seconds after Bunny ran back inside in excitement, before slowly looking over his shoulder at Bulma's balcony. The woman had a child now? His head started to spin a little, before he angrily shook it off. Yes, it made perfect sense. Clearly, with Yamcha in her bedroom, it was obvious to Vegeta what must have transpired in his absence. Bulma had gotten back together with her former mate, and now they had a brat together. The disgust was almost immediate, flooding his chest and taking his appetite away. Vegeta tossed his plate back to the table with a sneer, his stomach churning for reasons that were beyond him.

He growled in annoyance with himself, before turning to face the building directly, squaring his shoulders as if preparing for battle. Crossing his arms, he donned a mask of hard indifference, and waited.

Oblivious of the man who was waiting for her downstairs, Bulma's face was a furious red as she tried not to strangle her ex-boyfriend in her bedroom. The only reason she wasn't currently screaming her head off was the fact that Trunks was taking a nap in his crib, only a few doors away.

"I'm not trying to be a dick here, but you have seriously _got _to stop making excuses for him!"

"I'm not making excuses for anyone! And quite frankly, it's none of your business anyways so I don't see why we're even having this discussion!"

"It _is _my business! I'm the one who is here, looking out for you-"

"I don't _need _you or anyone else to look out for me, you moron!"

"What about Trunks? Don't you think he deserves a male role model in his life?"

"Trunks will be fine, with or without his father in the picture. You'd damn well better believe that I will see to that!"

"Do you honestly believe that?"

"Bulma, sweetheart?" Bunny said brightly from the door, as if she wasn't interrupting a heated argument. Bulma and Yamcha stared each other down for a few more seconds, before Bulma sighed and turned to look at her mother.

"What is it, Mom?" Bulma asked, sounding tired as she raised a hand to rub her eyes.

"Vegeta is downstairs. Won't you go greet him? He wants to speak to you, dear."

Bulma and Yamcha both stared at Bunny in open-mouthed shock. Yamcha finally swallowed heavily, not believing his ears. He shifted his gaze to Bulma, but she had a look of utter incomprehension on her face. After having waited so long for Vegeta to return, the only thing Bulma could think of now was that she wasn't prepared. Oh, by the heavens above, _how _had she not prepared? How was she going to tell him about Trunks? Should she go wake the baby up and bring him with her, or bring Vegeta up to see him? How would the Saiyan react to the news? Quite suddenly, the anxiety she had buried a long time ago came raging back up to the surface, mixing with the excitement of seeing her former lover again into a chaos that left her brilliant brain unable to function.

"Dear, it isn't polite to keep our men waiting," Bunny giggled with a wink. Bulma blinked a few times, snapping out of it. She took a deep breath, not sure if it was her anxiety in her skin or the butterflies in her stomach she was trying to hold in check, before nodding and heading to the door.

"I'll go with you," Yamcha said, walking after her.

"No," Bulma snapped, turning on her heel to face him. She gave him a look that immediately froze him. "You stay out of this. This is between me and Vegeta."

"But-"

"So help me, Yamcha, if you stick your nose in this, I swear I won't do a damn thing to stop Vegeta from doing whatever he wants to you this time," Bulma warned. Yamcha bit the inside of his cheek, seeing no sign of a lie in Bulma's eyes. He'd gotten much stronger since Vegeta's departure, but he knew that Vegeta could likely say the same. Scowling in defeat, he gave a silent, relenting nod. Satisfied, Bulma turned and walked past her mother, heading down to see her prince once again.

Meanwhile, Vegeta was gazing curiously at the domed building. He was picking up on a small ki that he couldn't place. It was too low to be a warrior, but it was much higher than Bulma's and her parents'. It suddenly occurred to him that it might've been Bulma's son, but that was preposterous. No human child could have such an enormous ki. He frowned a little, but didn't have much time to give it another thought before the door opened and Bulma stepped out, walking over until she was only a few feet away from him.

Vegeta looked down, and there was silence as dark brown met blue. Neither said anything as they both drank each other in, assessing each other silently after being apart for so long. She took in the way his features seemed harder and stronger, his body somehow looking even more powerful than when he'd left. His armor and his uniform, both pristine when he'd left, were both wrecked now. There was dried blood on his uniform and she couldn't help but scan him over, looking to see if he was hurt. At the same time, he took in her new haircut. It was cut shorter like it'd been on Namek, the very first time he'd laid eyes on her. Her frame seemed softer, more inviting than before, but he supposed that was to be expected since she'd had a child. The disgust ran through him again, and when he saw the concerned way she was looking him over, he sneered angrily in response.

He was about to tell her that she had no right to look at him like that when she broke their silence first.

"You did it. You're a Super Saiyan," she said, a smile finally spreading across her face upon seeing that he wasn't hurt at all. Vegeta was slightly caught off guard by that familiar smile, before realizing what she'd said. He couldn't help the proud smirk that crept up on him. If anyone knew how much his ascension meant to him, Bulma did. For the moment, he forgot his disgust over her having a child with that stupid human.

"Of course I am, woman," Vegeta said with a snort, and Bulma's heart skipped a beat. His voice was rougher and sexier than she remembered, and it sent a chill of excitement through her skin that she hadn't felt since the last time she'd felt his bare skin against hers. The prince cocked an eyebrow, his smirk spreading. "Was there ever any doubt?"

Bulma laughed at his response, and Vegeta couldn't believe how good it sounded to hear that laugh again. His smirk slowly faltered, and he looked away, uncomfortable and slightly bewildered that she was having this effect on him after so long. But maybe, deep down, he had known. Maybe that's why he hadn't come back sooner? He scowled and lowered his arms to his sides, telling himself it was best to hurry this along.

Just as he resolved to do just that, Bulma launched herself right into him. Vegeta immediately tensed, his eyes widening as she hugged him tightly.

"I knew you could do it. I'm _soooo _proud of you, Vegeta," she told him, and he was momentarily left speechless. No one had ever told him that before and he was so stunned by the truth in her voice that he didn't pull away from her hug. On the inside, he was completely berating himself - this was NOT how things were supposed to go...but, damn, did it feel really good to feel her again. Vegeta clenched his hands into fists to resist roaming them over her soft figure, his heart pounding as her touch and scent washed over him in waves. It had been so, _so_ long.

Finally, he swallowed heavily and put his hands on her waist.

He then gently but firmly pushed her away from him, ignoring the brief look of hurt in her eyes at his rejection and his own body adamantly protesting at the loss of contact.

"There will be no more of that," Vegeta snarled, choosing to dive into his earlier anger and disgust to make this easier on him. He glared at her, his eyes suddenly hard and completely indifferent. He was not going to touch her again, not while she belonged to that human fool. He had too much pride, and too much self-respect to lower himself to such standards. "I've only returned for new armor and a new uniform that I can wear to battle the androids. I want it ready as soon as possible."

Bulma took a deep breath, trying her best to study him, but he wasn't letting her in. Not anymore. She sighed a little in disappointment before nodding. "I can have it done in a couple days."

"Fine," he said dismissively, turning around to leave. "I'll come back in two days to get it then."

"You're not staying?"

He froze. His upper lip curled back in disgust, before he looked back at her and sneered nastily, "Why would I? So I can see that brat of yours up close?"

Bulma's eyes widened in shock. "You...already know?"

"Don't play me for a fucking fool, woman," Vegeta hissed venomously, not able to rationalize his growing rage as he spat out his next words: "I know the truth. You ran back to that weakling mate of yours and bore him a son. Congratulations," he said snidely.

"That's not true."

"Oh?"

"I do have a son. His name is Trunks, but he's not Yamcha's."

Vegeta suddenly felt lightheaded as he stared into her blue eyes, which were telling him a truth that actually and genuinely scared him. He took a wary step back, not wanting to ask but needing to know. He cleared his throat, the menacing sneer on his face completely masking the way he actually felt.

"If that fool isn't the boy's father, then who is?" Vegeta demanded. His voice was so threatening and dangerous that Bulma faltered a little in her resolve. She bit her bottom lip anxiously, and he growled and took a step closer to her. "Answer me, NOW!"

"I think you already know," Bulma told him, easily fielding his dangerous glare, her cool and strong look equally masking the way she actually felt. "He's your son, Vegeta."

The only sound Bulma could hear was her own heartbeat. Vegeta's stare was hard and for the first time that she could remember, his stare was completely unnerving in its intensity. His eyes were well guarded, and she had no clue what was going on in that head of his. Finally, the silence became utterly unbearable and Bulma couldn't handle it anymore. Drawing herself up, she took another slow and steady breath.

"Look. I'm not asking you to stick around and start playing house dad with Trunks. I'm not asking you for anything, I swear that I'm not. I just want you to know, that he's here, and he's your son."

Silence.

"He...he's upstairs," Bulma stuttered a little, growing more anxious by the second over the way Vegeta was staring right through her. She didn't think he had even blinked once. "You can come up and see him if you want."

More deafening silence.

"Vegeta..." Bulma pleaded softly. She reached out to him, but he snarled hatefully and pulled away from her touch. The motion was enough for him to finally break his stare, and enough for him to break part of her heart along with it. Turning away, Vegeta stared off to the side, his hands clenched into painfully tight fists at his sides.

Vegeta felt sick with hatred, not sure what he wanted to do more: throw up everything he'd eaten over the last week, or destroy everything and everyone within eyesight. Including Bulma.

_Especially _Bulma. The betrayal and rage he felt nestling in his chest was unlike any he'd ever felt before. How could he have been such a fool? How had he let this woman seduce him with her wit, smarts, bravery and looks, knowing full well what he was walking into? He had placed his trust in this woman, the _only _time he'd ever done such a ludicrous thing, and now...now he had a son.

A son! What the fuck was _he _supposed to do with a son? What could he _ever _have to offer the boy aside from showing him the most effective ways to murder and slaughter? He was a battle-hardened warrior, a ruthless killer, not some role model for a young boy to aspire to. He would break the boy, either through his absence in his life, or worse: through his presence. Slowly, he shook his head in sheer disbelief, vaguely wondering if this was some kind of warped nightmare as he felt a migraine slowly coming on.

Was this really happening?

Bulma was wringing her hands anxiously as she watched Vegeta stare blankly off at nothing. She was at a rare loss for what to say or what to do. This wasn't playing out like her fantasies _or _her nightmares, and she wished more than anything that he would look at her again.

"Please say something."

There was silence for a few minutes, before he did.

"You lied to me," he said, his tone low and barely controlled.

"I did no such thing," Bulma immediately responded defensively. "I was taking the pill because I DIDN'T want to get pregnant. I even TOLD you it would help the odds if you wore a con-"

Vegeta whirled on her, his eyes furious. "Don't you fucking DARE try to blame me for this!" he screamed, raising a finger in warning. "I told you that I didn't want any children, and YOU said it would be fine, you lying bitch!"

"I'm not blaming anyone and I didn't lie to you, you pompous jackass!" Bulma yelled back at him. "I told you the first time before we did anything that you could put a condom on and you didn't want to, so take some goddamn responsibility for what happened! I didn't climb on myself and get myself pregnant, you know!"

Completely livid with her logic, Vegeta spun away from her with a dangerous hiss. He latched onto the table where all the food was and with one whirl, he slammed the table viciously into the ground, shattering it on impact and making Bulma flinch back in shock. He screamed something unintelligible in his blind rage, curse words in an ancient language she didn't recognize. Bulma watched him, telling herself it was better for him to take out some of his anger and frustration on something that wasn't, well, alive. When he finally ran his hands up into his hair in silent exasperation, she swallowed heavily and tried again.

"Trunks is here now and there's nothing we can do about it," Bulma tried reasoning with him. "As much as I would like you to be there for him, I'm not asking you to."

"Good," Vegeta sneered, lowering his hands and turning back to her. His eyes were cold and black with hatred, and Bulma had never felt him so far away. "That brat means nothing to me. He's a fucking disgrace to my royal blood, and I won't have anything to do with him. Understand?"

The maternal protective instincts in Bulma, so young but so very real, flared up to the surface as she stalked right up to him. "How DARE you talk about my sweet baby like that, you asshole!" she screamed in his face. Vegeta clenched his teeth furiously, staring into her livid blue eyes and deep down wondering why the hell it was that seeing that raging, burning blue still ignited a dormant desire in him. It was that very thing that had led to all of this in the first place...

"That's right, woman," he snarled dangerously, his eyes locked on hers. "He's yours. Not mine. And don't you forget it."

Bulma glared fiercely at him, undeterred. "Good. I wouldn't want him associating with someone like you anyways."

Vegeta chuckled mirthlessly. "Not to worry. After I'm done with my business here on Earth, I'm leaving this piece of shit, backwards, mudball planet. I'll leave you to care for the little half-breed bastard here on your own. Consider that my gift, from _father _to _son_," he sneered nastily.

Left at a loss for words over how completely he was rejecting their son, Bulma could only let out an infuriated howl of frustration. She tried to slap him like she'd done that one day, so long ago, but Vegeta caught her hand this time. He growled and hauled her over to him roughly, bringing her right up against his chest. Bulma yelped as she crashed into him, feeling like she might as well have crashed into a brick wall for how much he budged. She looked up and swallowed nervously when she saw his penetrating dark gaze less than a few inches from hers. Too late, she realized she might have really pushed him too far this time. This time, he might really make good on his threat to finally kill her.

He saw a flicker of that fear and, unbelievably, it made him feel even more enraged. If he'd really wanted to kill her, he would have done so a long time ago! What a fucking stupid woman! He hissed through his nose and closed his eyes for a few seconds, turning his head to the side as he forced himself to rein in his rage. After taking in a couple of breaths, he finally looked back into her damnable, enticing blue eyes. In the back of his mind, his eternal curiosity couldn't help but wonder what color eyes the boy had.

Not that it mattered.

"I don't want to hurt you, Bulma," Vegeta finally said, his tone serious and controlled. Bulma's sudden rage disappeared as fast as it came when she saw his eyes soften a little bit. For just a brief second, it was as though they were lovers again and she had all the insight on him she could ever want. Then, just like that, the second passed and his eyes became hard again as he shut her back out. His anger was back when he viciously snarled out, "So _don't_ try that again. If you catch me by surprise, my instincts are too fast, and my strength is too much. Do you understand what I'm saying, you mindless female?"

Bulma frowned at him in confusion, wishing she could figure this man out. It was obvious he cared about her, but then why wouldn't he care about Trunks? It just made no sense to her. He was a Super Saiyan now, he could protect Trunks if need be. She released a shaky breath, still only inches away from his face. The time they'd spent apart was a moot point when his body was pressed against hers like it currently was. Her body knew his heat, and her rage had only served to get her heart pounding and her blood flowing. Likewise, Vegeta was breathing a little heavier than normal from his own anger, his hot breath tickling her skin and making her suppress a shudder of desire.

"Vegeta... what's the real reason that you don't want to see Trunks?" she asked, feeling him tense against her at the question. Vegeta's eye twitched, before he released her and pushed her back away from him. He raised two fingers to her, finally feeling like he could breathe now that there was distance between them.

"Two days, woman. I'll be back for my armor and uniform. Have it ready," he ordered harshly, his voice ice cold as he purposely ignored her question.

"Wait-" Bulma started, but he had already turned around and taken off into the air. Bulma watched him fly off, before sighing heavily. Settling her hands on her waist, she looked over at the mess of a broken table and spilled food Vegeta had made. She stared at it for a while, her mind spinning. Reaching up, she rubbed her eyes tiredly.

"Bulma?"

She sighed and lowered her hand. "What?"

"You alright?" Yamcha asked, standing in the doorway as he watched her from behind with concerned eyes. It looked like there had been a brawl in the backyard, and that didn't exactly set him at ease. He'd sensed Vegeta's ki soar to dangerous levels, but had stayed put. The energy he had picked up from Vegeta was nothing short of phenomenal, and he'd had the feeling that Vegeta wasn't powered up in the slightest. Out of fear for his safety, he'd waited until he felt the Saiyan leave.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Bulma said, her tone a bit dry as she turned and walked over to Yamcha. He stepped aside to let her in, before closing the door behind them. Bulma glanced up towards Trunks' room. "Is the baby still sleeping?"

"Yeah, he is, your mom checked him. Kid's down for the count."

"Good," Bulma sighed in relief. "I think I'm going to go take a nap too."

"Did everything go okay with Vegeta?"

Bulma hesitated, before looking out in the direction Vegeta had taken off in. She wanted to say no, but she couldn't help but think of that one second where he'd dropped his guard with her. She frowned thoughtfully, trying to figure him out and put the pieces together. She was brilliant, a true genius, but Vegeta was another plane of difficulty that just made her head and heart hurt.

"I don't really know," Bulma finally admitted. "I guess we'll find out when he comes back in two days."

"What's he coming back for?" Yamcha asked.

"Don't worry about it," Bulma sighed, heading out of the kitchen to go crash in her room until Trunks woke up.

Well, either that, or cry her eyes out. Not for herself, but for her little boy. His father wanted nothing to do with him, and her maternal instincts made her feel a rare hatred towards Vegeta. Honestly, why couldn't that man just swallow his pride for once and realize that their son needed him? And most importantly, why couldn't he have just continued being an asshole, instead of telling her that he didn't want to hurt her and instantly reminding her why she fell in love with him in the first place?

Or better yet, why couldn't he have just stayed away altogether?

Oh, that man! Bulma exhaled in frustration as she marched up the stairs towards her bedroom, cursing his name every step of the way.

Reality was so much more complicated than fantasies and nightmares...


	20. Just Once

The two days came and went, and Vegeta never showed up.

Bulma sighed as she settled into her bed for the night. She turned on the audio monitor so she could hear Trunks in his room, all the while thinking about her son's father. She had easily replicated his armor and uniform from her old design (even upgraded it a little bit), but the jerk apparently didn't seem to care anymore because he hadn't shown up to claim it. It was a week after his return to Capsule Corp, and there had been no sign of him, much to Bulma's annoyance. Here she had taken time out of her work schedule to get his armor and uniform ready for him in the deadline he set, only for him to blow her off.

_Of course, everything runs on _his_ time_, Bulma thought as she rolled her eyes. She set the right volume for Trunks' radio set in his room, and set the monitor down on the nightstand in her room. With a yawn, she crawled under her sheets, eager to take advantage of Trunks going down early to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Too tired to mind the red light from the volume on the monitor, she pushed the thoughts of Vegeta out of her mind and finally fell asleep.

Three hours later, the red light flared up for a second, but Bulma was sound asleep and didn't hear the sound of a window opening coming through the monitor.

Vegeta easily climbed in through the window to Trunks' room, before silently closing the window after him. There was a Winnie the Pooh nightlight in an outlet on the far wall, giving the room a dim glow. His dark eyes swept the room, his nose crinkling at the strange smell he was picking up. He didn't notice the sound monitor Bulma had set up in the room because she had blocked it from sight, since the red lights didn't let Trunks sleep. He did notice the crib though, his gaze finally settling on it.

Vegeta had told Bulma he didn't care about his son, and that was no lie. He'd been so enraged after their little _reunion_ that he'd simply stayed away, figuring to hell with his armor. He had done some light training, focusing more on mentally preparing for the androids since he was at his physical peak, but the thoughts of his son kept creeping in. Slowly, against his will, he started developing a mild curiosity that only intensified as the days passed.

After fighting an inner war with himself for days, he finally decided to see the boy up close. He was planning on leaving the planet after the whole ordeal with the androids, but first, he wanted to see the boy.

Just once.

To his relief, Bulma kept the brat in a room alone. That made it even easier. He didn't want her knowing of this, not wanting to give her any false hope. The brat meant nothing to him, but he deserved the right to see his own flesh and blood at least once, alone, without anyone hovering over him. Vegeta scowled and walked over to the crib, peering down over the rail at the sleeping baby as he crossed his arms over his armor.

There he was. Trunks was on his back, wearing blue pajamas with little baseballs and footballs all over it. There was no denying it; the kid was real. And he was _his _son. Vegeta stared at the boy, a range of emotions whirling together in his dark eyes as he stood there for what felt like hours.

How different things would have been if this boy had been born while he served Frieza. Having a child under Frieza's reign would have resulted in the child's death if it was a girl, or immediate recruitment into Frieza's army if it was a boy. Staring at the baby in the crib, Vegeta knew now what he had always known: he would have _never _been able to hand over his son to that lizard bastard. But back then, he would have had no choice, and what precious little remained of his sanity would have been shattered completely at seeing the tyrant getting his hands on his son.

Even though Frieza was gone now, his powerful influence left lingering poison deep down in Vegeta's soul. It was impossible to shake. No matter what Bulma told him or thought of him, how could he deny the horrible things he had done under Frieza's reign? Even if he wanted to take it all back, like he so often did on nights when he woke up to screams from his slaughtered victims in his past, he couldn't. He was corrupted, and when he died, he knew exactly where he was going.

After all, he'd been there before.

No, it was definitely good that he was leaving the planet after the androids were destroyed. The boy wouldn't know him, and that was for the best. He would be safe here, on Earth, with Bulma – a hell of a far cry from the situation his own father had left him in. Though he had told Bulma nastily that it was his gift to his son, there was a lot of truth to that statement. That was the best thing he could ever do for the boy. Destroy the threat to his world, and then leave.

Trunks shuffled a little bit in his sleep, before turning over onto his side and giving his father his back. Vegeta's eyes, which had grown distant as he lost himself in thought, sharpened at the movement. It was then that he noticed that the boy didn't seem to have a tail.

With an angry snarl, Vegeta reached down over the rail and easily used his ki to burn a three inch cut through Trunks' pajamas without harming the boy's skin. The prince put his hand in and pulled the baby's diaper down a little, before pressing his hand to where his tail should have been. His eyes widened when he realized there was no stump.

Had he not been born with it, or had Bulma removed it?

The second thought filled Vegeta with a rage the likes of which eclipsed any semblance of sanity. Half-breed or not, tainted blood or not, he would _never_ forgive her if she removed the boy's tail. Reaching up, he roughly fisted the back of Trunks' pajamas and lifted the boy clear out of the crib. Trunks blinked through heavy eyes as Vegeta turned him around to examine his skin closer through the hole in his pajamas.

The baby's skin was smooth and unmarked.

He wasn't born with it.

Vegeta couldn't believe it. Even Kakarot's brat had been born with a tail! How the hell could _his _son not be born with one? What a fucking joke… even in this, Kakarot bested him!

Trunks squirmed and whimpered in his grasp, his father's rough, torn glove on his smooth skin of his backside making the baby highly uncomfortable. Vegeta immediately withdrew his hand and raised the boy up, still holding him with one hand by the back of his pajamas. The prince cocked his head to the side, his eyes both curious and disgusted as he turned Trunks this way and that while he examined him like he was anything but a baby.

Finally, Vegeta grunted, his upper lip curling back in disgust.

"No tail. Wrong hair color."

A few doors away, Bulma slowly turned over, squinting in her dark room. She could have sworn she just heard Vegeta's voice. She looked around with a yawn, wondering if he'd shown up in her room or if she was still dreaming. Then she heard a rise of static, before hearing his gruff voice through the monitor next to her.

"_Definitely _wrong eye color…"

Suddenly wide awake, Bulma reached for the monitor and brought it close to her. She couldn't see anything, but the red lights were rising up every now and then with the volume on the other end. She heard a familiar grunt before hearing Trunks babble a little in response.

Vegeta was there, in Trunks' room! Bulma couldn't help the smile that spread over her features, before she shook her head in happy disbelief.

_That sneaky jackass…_

Meanwhile, oblivious that Bulma was listening in, Vegeta stared at the boy, seeing his own features reflected back at him. There was no doubt about it. This was his son. He turned Trunks around a few more times with easy turns of his wrist, continuing to examine the boy.

"Hn. What a weak, pathetic thing you are, half-breed," Vegeta finally scoffed in disgust. Trunks was staring at his father with wide eyes, before looking up at that wild flame-shaped dark mane. The baby stared at it in awe while Vegeta sneered, "You don't have _one ounce _of Saiyan in you, do you, boy? Though you do have a substantial ki for your age, it's still not impressive, brat. Our bloodline is filled with Saiyan Elites, and you are nothing but a half-breed, tainted with human blood. You don't even have a fucking tail. What a disgraaaaAAARGH!" Vegeta screamed when Trunks suddenly grabbed two tight fistfuls of his hair.

The baby giggled and yanked. _H__ard. _

"Unhand me at once, you brat!" Vegeta snarled, wincing in pain as he instinctively raised his free hand to grab one of Trunks' chubby wrists. Trunks' grip only tightened more, and the prince was quickly realizing that this boy was definitely _not_ weak. Not wanting to harm the boy by crushing his wrists, Vegeta growled and yanked Trunks back from him completely, while the boy damn near ripped his hair right out of his scalp. Trunks just laughed in delight as his father now held him at arm's length away. He babbled away while Vegeta gave him a dirty glare as he rubbed his aching scalp with his free hand.

"So, it seems you have some strength after all, boy," Vegeta said, studying Trunks more intensely than before. The baby clapped his hands in amusement, not at all intimidated by the fierce scrutiny he was under and happily oblivious to the bombardment of emotions raging inside of his father. Vegeta exhaled deeply through his nose, before slowly nodding.

"Very well then. Let's see just how strong you are, kid."

Vegeta raised his free hand up to Trunks, palm up. A second later, and a small blue ball of ki appeared, hovering an inch from his palm. Trunks instantly stared at the ball of ki, a look of curiosity on his face. Vegeta watched the boy's reaction, before making the ball grow a little bigger. He levitated the ball of energy so it was about five inches above his palm and right in front of Trunks' face.

Trunks stared at it for a few moments, his eyes narrowing. Vegeta's teeth were grinding together, his heart pounding. Deep down, he knew he was being completely absurd. He had handled raw energy for the first time when he was twice this boy's age.

But this kid had a high ki for his age, and he had strength beyond his age as well…

Trunks reached out and tried to grab the bright, blue, glowing ball in front of him. Vegeta immediately seized his hand so he wouldn't get burned.

"Not like that, child," Vegeta growled. He turned the baby's hand to the side of the ki ball, his hand engulfing Trunks' little one. Trunks watched with wide eyes as Vegeta rotated their hands, and the ball of ki rotated right along with the motions. Vegeta smirked a little at the captivated look on the boy's face, before slowly pulling his hand away from Trunks' hand.

Father and son both were wearing the same shocked look as Trunks slowly raised his hand, the ball of ki hovering over his little palm. Trunks couldn't believe the new toy he now had, while Vegeta was floored that the boy was actually controlling energy! Granted, it was very little energy, but it still spoke of enormous potential. Not only that, but it reinforced the fact that regardless of his physical appearance and being born with no tail, this boy had the blood of a Saiyan Elite in his veins. No third class and no son of a third class Saiyan could do what this child was doing, not at this age.

"Astounding," Vegeta mumbled, shaking his head in disbelief. Trunks' face scrunched up and he suddenly started shaking his hand, trying to get rid of the ball that seemed stuck to his hand. Vegeta's eyes widened.

"No, wait, don't-_shit_!" the prince yelled, barely moving his head out of the way as Trunks launched the small ball of ki right at his face. It exploded against the wall and startled Trunks, who immediately burst into tears. Vegeta gawked at the hole in the wall, oblivious of the crying baby who was still hanging from his grip on the back of his pajamas.

"Unbelievable," Vegeta whispered. He barely had time to wrap his mind around just how strong this boy could grow up to be when Bulma suddenly barged into the room.

"What's going on here?" Bulma demanded, frazzled when she heard an explosion of all things from the baby's room. She snatched Trunks away from Vegeta, bringing him close to her to soothe him. "There, there, sweet boy," Bulma cooed, trying to get the baby to stop crying. "It's okay, baby. It's okay. Daddy scares _everyone _when they first meet him."

Vegeta scowled at that, finally turning to look at her while she rubbed Trunks' back. She blinked in surprise when she saw that his pajamas were ripped at the back. Looking up, she examined the wall that was partly caved in behind the prince. Good thing there was just an empty guest room on the other side. Tomorrow she would move Trunks to another room, maybe the next one over so he'd be closer to her. Finally, she looked at Vegeta.

"What the heck happened in here?"

Vegeta stayed silent as he watched her soothe their son. Quite suddenly, he was reminded of his own mother. Something in his chest hurt and he shook his head, looking away.

"Nothing," he finally answered, crossing his arms over his armor. Bulma looked at him curiously as Trunks quieted down in her arms. The baby laid his head down on her shoulder with a yawn, his exhaustion coming back to him.

"Do you want to wait outside while I lay him back down?" Bulma whispered.

Vegeta's scowl deepened as he kept his gaze off to the side. He didn't want to stay. Truly, he didn't. He'd seen the boy, and that was enough for him. But, he _did_ need his armor, so he might as well get it since he was already there.

"Fine," he finally spat out, turning and stalking out of the room, not sparing either of them a glance on his way out.

Bulma sighed as she watched him leave, before giving Trunks a soft kiss on top of his head as she continued rubbing his back. Her mind wandered to Vegeta and the exchange she'd heard over the audio monitor up until the explosion. Vegeta hadn't come that night to get his armor and his uniform. If that had been the reason, he would've come to her directly. No, he had purposely sought out Trunks, and she couldn't help the surge of hope she felt at that. If he didn't care like he kept swearing he did, then he wouldn't have ever come back.

_That man and his damn pride, _she thought with a shake of her head.

She emerged a few minutes later from Trunks room after making sure he was asleep again, closing the door quietly behind her. Looking over, she saw him leaning on the wall a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest, one foot crossed over the other. He didn't react when she looked at him, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

"Are you still mad at me?"

He looked away when she came to stand a few feet in front of him. He stayed silent, stubbornly glaring off at nothing as Bulma sighed. He scowled when he started picking up on her familiar scent.

Damn it, he wanted to stay angry at her. Hell, he wanted to _hate_ her.

"I just need my armor, woman," he growled through clenched teeth.

"Come on, Vegeta, don't be mad at me. It was just as much a shock to me, you know," she told him, her voice quiet since they were just outside of Trunks' room. "And on top of that, I had to do it alone."

The slight hurt in her voice wasn't lost on him. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall.

"I told you I didn't want any children." His voice matched hers in volume.

"But you never told me why."

"What does it matter?" he hissed.

"It _matters _because Trunks is here now," she told him, placing her hands on her hips. "We can't send Trunks back where he came from. That trip was _definitely_ one way, let me tell you."

His lip twitched as he resisted a smirk at that. He forced a sneer on his face, trying his hardest to cling to his anger. It wasn't that difficult when he went over her words again and found a point he was still raw on.

"_Trunks,_" he scoffed in disgust."What a stupid fucking name."

"Hey, it's tradition, you jerk," Bulma snapped defensively. "Besides, what would you have named him?"

"His name should be Vegeta. _That_ is tradition. Every heir to the Saiyan throne is named Vegeta. It was my father's name, and it should be my son's name."

"Well, how was I supposed to know that? You never told me." Bulma raised an eyebrow, before smirking knowingly. "Besides. I thought that he was only _my_ son?"

Vegeta opened his mouth to respond, before closing it when he realized he had nothing to say. He opened his eyes and glared at her, hating that triumphant look in her blue eyes. That damn shade of blue that she'd passed down to the boy. Oh, how he hated that color.

The prince snorted. "You're right. What do I care what the brat's name is? The boy means nothing to me," he said, before looking away again.

Bulma stepped up to him, opening her mouth to press him as to why he'd even come back then, when his smell suddenly blindsided her. Crinkling up her nose in disgust, she leaned back from him a little.

"Geez, Vegeta! When's the last time you took a bath?" Vegeta kept his eyes away, but his cheeks were suddenly burning. He was glad for the poor lighting as Bulma laughed at him. "What, are you planning on melting the androids with that stench?"

He growled and looked back at her. "For your _information_, I've bathed regularly. I've simply had nothing else to wear."

"Well, you have a whole lot of clothes here. And not only that, but I made you a new set of armor with a new battle uniform," Bulma told him with a frown. "By the _way, _Vegeta, you said two days and you didn't show up, you ass."

"Well I'm here now, so where is it?" Vegeta demanded angrily.

"Ha, with _that_ attitude, I might just let you go looking and smelling like crap to the fight with the androids," she told him with a poke in the chest. "Now go take a bath and then meet me downstairs, and then I'll give it to you. You are not going to wear that brand new armor with how bad you smell."

"Stupid woman, do _not_ give me orders," Vegeta snarled, swatting her hand away from him. The last thing he wanted from her was her touch.

"Ugh, fine then," Bulma snapped. "Go fight the androids like this. Everyone will probably drop dead once you're within range from how bad you'll be reeking by then. If you happen to change your mind, I'll be downstairs, your highness."

Vegeta growled low in his throat as she turned and walked away from him. What an utterly insufferable woman. Once she was out of sight, he raised his arm and sniffed himself. He didn't smell _that _bad… muttering curses under his breath, he pushed away from the wall and headed towards his old bedroom.

Twenty minutes later, Vegeta was descending the staircase, wearing only a pair of his old exercise shorts with a white towel around his shoulders. He had to admit, these showers were much more convenient than bathing in a river like he'd been doing. Once he got downstairs, he did a ki sweep for Bulma, scowling when he sensed her down in the labs. He raised one end of his towel and wiped his face down, going to sit on the sofa in the living room to wait for her when he walked right past the mantle.

He stopped and turned to look, his curiosity getting the best of him. He let go of his towel, gazing at the picture frames that were there. There were a few of Bulma when she was younger, but he'd seen those before. What caught his eye were the rest of them, all pictures of Trunks. Vegeta stared at each picture, seeing how much smaller his son had been, and how much he'd already grown and changed in his absence.

Bulma tilted her head a little as she watched Vegeta curiously. He was staring intensely at a picture frame on the mantle in the living room and either was ignoring her or hadn't noticed that she was there now. She smiled a little at what he was looking at.

"We made a pretty cute baby, didn't we?" she teased. He scowled when he heard her, but didn't look away. Bulma walked over to him, standing next to him. He didn't say anything, his eyes scanning over the pictures. The heiress observed him, and wanted to point out that his interest was beyond someone who supposedly didn't care, but she opted for a different approach. Pointing to the first picture, she started explaining, "This one was when he was two weeks old. Those were tough days. He hardly slept, and just cried and cried. The kid has a pair of _lungs_."

"Hn." Vegeta looked over the picture in question, his eyes unreadable as he remembered the strength Trunks had shown. "The brat is going to be powerful."

"Well of course he is," Bulma said, as if that was obvious. "He's your son, after all."

At that, Vegeta finally looked away, from the pictures and from Bulma. He quietly collected his thoughts for a moment.

"I won't be staying, woman."

"What do you mean?"

"After all this is said and done with the androids. I won't stay on this planet."

"Oh," Bulma said in disappointment. "Yeah, I remember you mentioning that. But seriously Vegeta, where will you go? Where will you live?"

Vegeta blinked in surprise; that wasn't what he'd been expecting her to ask. He frowned, searching for an answer, but he hadn't thought that far ahead. Truly, he could survive almost anywhere. Though it would definitely be in his best interest to lay low. While no one on this damn mudball planet seemed to understand the true extent of his violent past, he still had many enemies lurking in other galaxies. If they knew he was alive, then he'd be dealing with the same old bullshit from Frieza's reign: everyday wondering if someone was going to make an attempt on his life. Though he was powerful enough now to survive anything they could throw at him, that lifestyle would get tiring in a hurry.

But it seemed that's what he had to do.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully, giving a careless shrug. "Anywhere but here, I suppose."

"You know, you could always stay here if you change your mind. This is your home too."

Vegeta immediately turned back to look at her, trying not to show his shock at what she'd said. Home? The word had lost all meaning to him. The closest thing he'd had to a "home" were the damn rejuvenation chambers that had been prevalent on Frieza's bases. It was the only place where he was free from his horrible existence and the constant horrors and trauma he had to face on a daily basis. And even then, he usually had to withstand hellacious beatings to gain such a "reward."

He sneered at her, "This isn't my home, woman. My home, my true home, it was destroyed when I was a small boy."

"I know," Bulma said gently, knowing that this was a delicate subject. "But you have to understand that you can have a new home here. My mom loves you, my dad accepts you, and most importantly, your son is here. If you wanted to stay, you could. It'd also be great for Trunks-"

"Enough. Where is my armor?" Vegeta snarled, cutting her off. He just wanted to leave. This woman and her brat were not his concern, and he was determined not to be sucked in further with them.

Bulma sighed, recognizing that look in his eyes. She reached over and handed the capsule to him. Vegeta snatched it out of her hand, before turning and giving her his back.

"I don't think I heard your thanks," Bulma said sarcastically.

"That's because I didn't give any."

Vegeta ignored her irritated growl, clicking the capsule before tossing it to the floor. He grunted in approval when he saw the new armor set. Taking his towel off his shoulders, he tossed it on the sofa. Bulma blinked in surprise when he dropped his shorts right where he was, leaving him completely nude. Granted, she had seen him naked on more than a few occasions, but that had been so long ago. Bulma's face unconsciously flushed red and she looked away as the Saiyan looked over what she'd made, completely indifferent over the fact that she was there. In his mind, she'd seen everything there was to see.

Bulma snuck him a quick glance as he picked up his new armor set and examined it. He knocked on it a few times, his effort minimal but still producing enough force to shatter stone. The armor was still intact afterwards, so he hit it a little harder.

"Hn. It's stronger than before," he commented.

"Um, yeah."

Vegeta looked over at Bulma out of the corner of his eye at her tone. He raised an eyebrow when he saw her staring up at the ceiling in avid interest. He looked up, following her line of sight, looking to see what she was looking at, but there was nothing to see.

The prince scowled, wondering what was wrong with her. Maybe she'd been hanging out with that scarfaced moron too much.

"Well, at least you finally did something useful around here, woman," he growled as he started to put his uniform on.

"Oh, please. I really ought to get a medal for dealing with _you_ on a consistent basis," Bulma shot back, sneaking another look right as he pulled his blue pants up.

"What about Kakarot? Do you deal with him on a consistent basis as well?" Vegeta asked, fishing for information on how far the other full-blooded Saiyan had advanced.

"No. I've only really kept up with Yamcha."

Vegeta's scowl deepened at the mention of that idiot. He picked up his brand new armor and tugged it on over his head. Part of him was mildly curious as to what, if anything, had gone on during his absence between those two. But the other, more rational part of him submerged such foolish thoughts.

Honestly, he didn't care.

"Well then," Vegeta finally said, his tone harsher than before as he slipped on his brand new white gloves. "Make sure you tell that weakling not to even bother showing up. I will defeat the androids singlehandedly."

"Full of yourself much?" Bulma teased as he finally turned to face her, his outfit finally complete.

Vegeta smirked, the arrogance radiating from him. "These androids will pose no problem at all. I will destroy them without even breaking a sweat."

"Well, everyone else is still going to be there, so you're going to have to work together."

"Bah. I work alone," Vegeta said with an indifferent wave of his hand. He turned to leave when her warm hand suddenly caught hold of his arm. He immediately froze at her touch.

"Vegeta, wait," Bulma said, and his smirk disappeared at her tone. The prince looked at her, eyes narrowed in suspicion and his body tense.

Here it was. The request for him to stick around, or for him to be a father to her brat, or some other kind of nonsense. He'd been expecting it, and now he could only wait. He studied her blue eyes as she came up close to him. Of course, now with her this close to him, his blood started rushing.

Vegeta took a deep breath to regain control of his body, before growling, "Now what the hell do you want, woman?"

"Be careful out there, okay?" Bulma told him, studying his dark eyes as intensely as he studied hers. Vegeta raised an eyebrow curiously, and she continued, "Seriously, I don't want anything to happen to you. I know that you say that you don't care and all that, but, well, I…"

Her voice faltered. It was his destiny to die in this battle, and while she fully believed his training would pay off and he'd avoid that fate this time around, there was still that risk. The thought pulled at her heart in all the wrong ways. She bit her bottom lip, struggling to find the words, but she truly didn't need to say anything else.

He saw it all in the way she was looking at him. Vegeta was momentarily left speechless at the emotion that was directed towards him. Thousands of battles he'd been in, all violent and many he'd come close to dying in, and now he'd found someone in the universe who actually gave a damn whether or not he came back alive.

It was one more than he ever thought he'd have.

He swallowed and forced himself to regain his senses.

"Your concern is completely absurd," Vegeta finally growled, scowling at her. "I am a Super Saiyan. I have power beyond anything your limited human brain can imagine. Nothing can stop me, much less these walking toasters."

Bulma cracked a small smile. "Just be careful, is all I'm asking, you egomaniac. Promise you'll be careful."

"Foolish woman."

"Stubborn Saiyan."

Vegeta blinked at the familiar exchange. He stared at her for a few moments, his eyes narrowed in intense concentration. Finally, he looked away and gave a conceding nod. Bulma smiled and let go of his arm.

"Just remember that I won't be coming back once this is all done and over with," he reminded her, turning away and giving her his back.

"Yes, but you remember too, that you can if you want to."

He hesitated for a second, before turning his head a little and answering. "Trust me, I won't, and there's nothing on this mudball planet that will make me change my mind. Now tell that scarfaced weakling that I said not to show up. That fool will only get in my way," he growled.

Bulma sighed, shaking her head, but Vegeta was already gone before she could think of what to say. She looked after him for some time, before looking back over at the pictures of Trunks on the mantle. Each picture provided a reason for Vegeta to stay. But he didn't want to see it that way, and she didn't know what to say or do. He'd seen Trunks up close in person, and still wasn't swayed. If seeing their son hadn't changed his mind, she sadly concluded that it was likely that nothing would.

As fate would have it, she couldn't have been more wrong.

**-The End-**

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**To everyone who read this far, a huge thank you. I'm very flattered that you guys stuck with me and that so many of you seemed to like this story, especially because I feel like half of the story was me just trying to get used to writing Bulma and Vegeta. Anyways, I hope I didn't disappoint with the ending. **

**The post-Cell sequel is up - it's under this account and it's called "Change of Heart." Check it out if you like. :)**

Thanks again!  



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